Ningyo
by Tenshi no Toki
Summary: While exploring a newly inherited house, Mokuba stumbles across a life sized robotic doll in the attic. The odd, yet beautiful creation arouses Seto’s interest, and the tragic love story behind the house’s origin begins to unfold. BakuraxMalik
1. Inheritance

**Ningyo **

**Summary:** While exploring a newly inherited house, Mokuba stumbles across a life sized robotic doll in the attic. The odd, yet beautiful creation arouses Seto's interest, and the tragic love story behind the house's origin begins to unfold.

**Rated:** T

**Genre:** Mystery

**Author's Note:** Eh heh…I'm sorry, I just started college, and I'm working on this totally awesome Yuugiou related project on YouTube. Have you guys heard of the Duel Monsters Fandub? I'm the translator. Anyway, this is just a little something I hope to finish by Halloween; it's meaty in content, but short in terms of chapters. I really like this idea, I even planned a prequel to it already. Oh, and it's totally AU. Because you know **(SPOILER)** isn't really a **(SPOILER)** and God knows **(SPOILER)** couldn't **(SPOILER)** to save his life.

Oh, and if you're curious about the pairing, it's not what you think. Meaning, whatever the main characters my imply, just ignore it and keep an open mind. It's nothing I haven't done _before_ though...

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, but I'm getting close.

-

**1 – Inheritance**

"It looks…really old."

"Even in death Gozaburo manages to give us another damn thing we don't need."

Mokuba Kaiba craned his neck upwards to get a full view of the creaking structure before them, squinting cobalt eyes against the bright drops of morning sun spilling from the crown of scarlet leaves adorning surrounding trees. The house was two stories tall, a pair of angular windows on the roof giving evidence of an attic. Its wooden structure was colored in rich greens and browns, complimenting the forested area it was built on. While stunning in terms of architecture, years of emptiness and harassment by rain and snow left it in a less than favorable condition. Several windows were clouded over in a light grey dust, blocking any sort of light from invading its shielded interior. The front door, decorated with a handsome (if not completely unnecessary) dragon shaped knocker, was blocked by two long boards crossed into an 'X,' which would hopefully relinquish their hold after a few well-placed thwacks from a crowbar.

"We're not really going to be living here, are we Seto?" The young boy said skeptically, nose wrinkling.

"It's a nice house in an ideal area," his older brother reasoned, pulling his heavy coat closer to his lean frame. "After a few core demolitions and some serious updating, it'd make a nice autumn home."

"Don't we already have like _twelve_ autumn homes?"

"None of them in Kyoto," Seto replied coolly, checking his watch. "The movers should be here any minute, unless that trail we took was covered by all the leaves already."

"What was Gozaburo doing with a house like this anyway?" Mokuba prodded, walking closer to the building. "If it's nice now, it would've been nicer back then. To just board it up and leave it unused seems kinda pointless, don't you think?"

"Back when the Kaiba Corporation was used primarily for war weapons, Gozaburo took it upon himself to buy a number of houses in a given area, kick the families out, and use their homes as hideouts or planning stations for whatever side he was currently playing for…with the right price of course."

"How much d'you think he paid for this one?"

"Absolutely nothing; the documents say this place was abandoned for a few years before he bought it out. It looks undisturbed; I don't think anyone since the original owner has ever set foot inside." The brunette smirked slightly. "And with the door all boarded up, some of the original furniture might still be inside."

"Which means an antique auction at the next staff meeting," Mokuba snickered.

A loud honk alerted the two brothers towards a large truck barreling towards them. Its rubber wheels, unfit to be driven on anything other than asphalt, squealed and skidded across the dirt, leaving a muddy wave behind it. Mokuba backed away slowly, unsure if the driver even knew how to break; his brother pulled an unimpressed grimace but remained in place, fixing flawless blue eyes towards the approaching beast, as if daring it to run him over. Finally, with an agonized lurch, the vehicle stopped a few feet away from the siblings and an exasperated blonde jumped out, pocketing his keys with shaky hands.

Katsuya Jounouchi was a distant acquaintance of the Kaiba brothers, and a Kyoto local. He lived just a few miles from where they were currently, and his father was the head of a struggling moving business. Knowing the family was desperate, the business savvy Seto figured they'd take any amount given to them. He settled for what would be considered a generous amount to 'common people' standards, but much less than a professional company would have ever taken. The result? Helping the poor and keeping his own bank account nice and full.

"If I knew the damn house was in the middle of a freaking forest, I'd have asked for more money!" Jounouchi complained, kicking clods of dirt off his tires. "If my old man finds out this stupid truck–"

"_Our_ car made it through just fine. Besides, I think 2,200,000 yen would be enough to buy a new truck for the business. That is, if your father doesn't blow it all on alcohol beforehand." Seto sneered.

"If I didn't need the cash so bad I would've dumped out all your furniture about mile ago," the other growled, tossing the taller man a crowbar. "Get rid of the X so we can get this over with."

"With pleasure."

Mokuba watched as his brother hooked the clawed end of the tool across the top board, wrist tensing as he pried both pieces off with a loud crack. Regaining his composure, he flung the broken X to the ground and raised an eyebrow towards the blonde.

"What? Is it locked? Just kick it down and replace it later!" Jounouchi snapped, as he had just begun to unload the truck.

"Mokuba, you want to do the honors?"

"So…it's not locked?" The boy said curiously, eyes widening. "That's kinda weird, isn't it? If they weren't trying to prevent anyone from coming in, maybe they blocked it to prevent anything inside from–"

"Theorize later; I want to get as much cleaning done as possible today so we can move everything in all at once tomorrow."

"But what if something pops out and tries to kill us?"

"_We're_ the ones with the crowbar, remember?"

"Look kid, just open the God damned door before I get over there and use your face to unlock it," the blonde barked impatiently, earning a cold glare.

"If it comes down to that, we'll just use Jounouchi as a sacrifice," Seto said moodily.

Mokuba blinked and cast an uneasy glance over his shoulder before gripping the open mouth tightly and twisting the dragon clockwise, letting go immediately as he heard a groan from the never oiled hinges. Peering out sheepishly from behind his older brother, the young Kaiba shut his eyes as a gust of fine dust blew out into the woods as broken cobwebs hung lazily from the door's frame.

Seto coughed upon getting hit by the strong scent of long forgotten potpourri, and looked cautiously into the exposed room. Touches of light now cast an almost ghostly glow on the once pristine furniture that lay undisturbed in what looked to be the living room; ornate chairs and tables lay still, covered in memories from decades ago. The brothers exchanged looks before Seto moved to take the first step inside.

A digital chime rang through the air as the siblings' attention was now directed to their hired ("Heh, more like bribed!") help. By the look on Jounouchi's face as soon as he brought the outdated cell phone to his ear, Seto knew their extra hand was just about to bail.

"W-What? Are you sure? But I'm kinda… A-Ah, don't yell! You'll attract even more attention to… OKAY, OKAY, ALRIGHT! I'll come over right away!" The blonde snapped the phone shut and gave a nervous smile to the knowing brothers. "Th-That was my dad…he…kinda found my younger sis with a guy in her bedroom and–"

"Unnecessary information is unnecessary!" Mokuba wailed, covering his ears.

"I'll just get everything out of the back and I'll meet you guys up tomorrow so I can help–"

"If you scratch it, you're buying me a new one," Seto drawled, tossing the other man the keys to his car. "I know this sudden surge of trust is hard to digest, but we need our stuff to be NOT broken."

"Th-Thanks! I owe you–"

"You owe me _several_. Now do what you need to and come back first thing tomorrow morning or you're not getting paid AND I'm keeping the truck."

Cringing as the dirtied commoner got into his precious ride, the brunette turned his attention to the loaded truck and mentally prepared himself for some physical labor.

"Gonna need any help?" Mokuba asked.

"Not if it means having to pay for your broken radius. I'll bring all the boxes out the back; it'll take me a while, so if you wanna take a quick look at the house go on ahead. I'll call you out here when I've got everything set."

"You're making me go in _there_? _Alone_?"

"Don't tell me you're scared of _dust_ Mokuba."

"I'm not!"

"Then at least scout out how much furniture is still in there so I know how many more trucks I'll have to call for."

"But–!"

"_Mokuba_…"

"If there's a dead body in there and I inhale whatever killed it," a deadpan look, "my blood will be on YOUR hands Seto!"

"I'll remember that."

Pouting childishly, the young Kaiba walked inside the old house, floorboards creaking under his weight.

He had seen the living room from outside, but found that its beauty could only be fully absorbed up close. The maple wood chairs and sofa were upholstered with embellished red fabric, still retaining its rich crimson despite the years of loneliness. An ornate rug released clouds of smoke as Mokuba waked across it slowly, holding his hand to his mouth and nose to prevent any inhalation. Empty picture frames hung eerily on the walls above a long dead fireplace, and an extinguished candlelit gold chandelier glowed dully in the sunlight.

Making tracks across the undisturbed floor, the boy entered what he assumed as the dining room, a long table complete with handsome chairs stood with an aged dignity, an arrangement of two plates, utensils and wine glasses lied out, ready to be used. A royal purple table runner holding the same design as the rest of the furniture looked worse for wear, but still retained some of its former elegance.

Treading carefully around the empty kitchen, Mokuba's mouth dropped open (causing him to cough and sputter violently) at the sight of a magnificent grand piano in a small room with a wall sized window. While the other rooms looked obviously untended, the sunlight pouring from the large glass filled the room with an ethereal light. There was a yellowed piece of sheet music still lying on the piano's stand, but its notes were long worn away with time. Mokuba approached the instrument and opened the lid carefully, turning away when a wave of dust emerged. The ebony and ivory keys gleamed like new, untouched by the grime. He pressed one lightly, a quiet hum of A sharp drifting through the empty house. He would have to get Seto to play some music after everything was settled; one couldn't find pianos of this quality anymore, with organic wooden parts and real ivory.

Mokuba noticed a previously unseen stairway peeking out from the next room, and went to investigate. Drawing a trail on the railway, the young Kaiba wandered up to the second floor and found three closed doors, each slightly different. The closest door to the stairs was locked, as Mokuba made several attempts to open it to no avail. The door on the left side of the hall led to an odd room with a single desk, torn book pages resting haphazardly on top. Like the sheet music, the ink had faded and they were beginning to turn a kind of beige; the open window possibly speeding up the process. Mokuba tried to make sense of the arrangement, but it was written in a language he was unfamiliar with.

"Guess I'll just add that to the list of stuff I have to ask Seto to do."

Slightly disheartened, he exited the room and entered the one right across from it, expression changing into that of surprise. The room was smaller than the other, but it resembled a child's bedroom, if not a nursery. A large bed, long enough to accommodate a person of average height, was placed in the center, dozens of deflated stuffed animals flopped onto the dusty covers. A circular rug, which was probably blue at one point in time, lay in front of a well-stocked bookshelf, its residents ranging from thick novels to simple picture books. Smirking, Mokuba took located an original copy of the classic _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_, and took it down, brushing off spindly cobwebs from its cover.

As he flipped through its pages, a small star shaped ornament that swung from the room's ceiling caught his attention. Placing the book on the floor, Mokuba stood on the tips of his toes to reach it, jumping backwards when a cascading ladder unfolded seemingly out of nowhere, accompanied by a flare of broken plaster pieces. Realizing he had just discovered (or rediscovered) a trap door to the house's attic, the curious boy cautiously climbed its rungs, heart thumping with a combination of excitement and apprehension.

The attic looked like any other attic in the world; large cardboard boxes littering the space, rolled up posters and paintings lying forgotten in the corner, broken appliances sticking out of garishly colored gift bags, a humanoid figure swathed in white sitting by the window…

…Oh Wait.

"Shit!" Mokuba swore, diving behind a box, graying his black hair and getting his jacket covered in filth. "Oh my God, oh my God, I knew it! This place is fricking haunted and now the ghost is gonna get me and steal my soul and I'll never get to tell that girl I liked her! What am I gonna do, what am I gonna do, what am I gonna do?" He shut his eyes fearfully, waiting for the spirit's cold touch of death to deliver him to his fate.

After panicking for a good five minutes, the young Kaiba chanced a quick peek at the figure, withdrawing as soon as he saw it was still there. He fumbled around the dark space (yelping when he accidently brushed against a spider) and found an open bag of glass marbles. Hoping he'd inherited his brother's lethal card flipping skills, he shaped his fist into a shooter and loaded a particularly large ball before flicking it with full force towards the offending ghost.

"Disappear, disappear, disappear, come on please, please, please!" Was the high-pitched plea.

A metallic clang echoed throughout attic. Mokuba blinked. The undead weren't supposed to be solid. And they definitely didn't clang. Standing up carefully, he saw that the figure had remained in the same stance as when he first entered the room, the marble having no effect at all. Now more curious than frightened, he tiptoed towards the window, his satchel of ammo ready at his side.

A soft gasp escaped his lips as he learned what his 'ghost' really was.

A life sized mechanical doll.

Dust clung to soft eyelashes that adorned gently closed eyes. Its mouth was shut in what looked to be an almost sad expression, though it was probably just a trick of the light. Layers of long, light blonde hair fell almost too perfectly over bronze shoulders, covering the majority of the doll's back, though some faded designs could still be seen. It was covered loosely in once white fabric, now worn ragged with age. Carefully crafted hands were clasped tightly around a small scrap of paper, held protectively to its chest. A picture of immaculate beauty, save for a pair of pearl white, faintly catlike metal ears that peaked out slightly from beneath its hair.

"I've seen these things before," the boy muttered. "It's an Actroid, one of those weird dolls that lonely old guys made when they realized they were never gonna get laid. They faded out in the late two-thousand and twenties though…I didn't know they could get so _realistic_…"

Confident that the doll had been inactive for quite some time, Mokuba stepped closer, a puff of settled dust rising with each step. He could now see that it was positioned as if it were looking out the window, as the dirt trail they had taken could be seen winding all the way up to the closest hill. He peered intently at the paper it held and reached out to touch it, stopping immediately when he heard a soft mechanical whir above his head. Cobalt eyes darted upwards and a sigh of relief escaped his mouth when he realized the figure was as frozen as ever. Mokuba gripped the scrap tightly and tried to take it away, surprised as he found it seemed to be stuck. He pulled, and paused again when he heard yet another click. Deciding that the noise was coming from outside, he attempted to retrieve the item once again.

A plume of smoky grime rose from the floor and caused the small boy to sneeze loudly, bringing up more unsettled dust.

It was at that moment he looked up and locked gazes with a pair of glassy lilac eyes.

--

Oh GEE, I wonder who the doll is. HMMM. The 'doll ears' were ripped straight out of _Chobits_ by the way, so if you're having trouble envisioning them, just do a Google search. Actroids really do exist; they're creepy Japanese robots that blink, talk, move, and everything! But Malik **(OMG SPOILED)** isn't like that. Promise.

**Review please!** This fic will hopefully be done by Halloween, so you only have a small window of opportunity to make me feel good about myself!

**REVIEW! **

**REVIEW!**

**REVIEW!**

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	2. Awakening

**Ningyo **

**Summary:** While exploring a newly inherited house, Mokuba stumbles across a life sized robotic doll in the attic. The odd, yet beautiful creation arouses Seto's interest, and the tragic love story behind the house's origin begins to unfold. Mild YAOI

**Rated:** T

**Genre:** Mystery

**Author's Note:** I told you I'd be quick on the updates. The story starts here…my stories always seem to start when Malik comes into the picture.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, but I'm getting close.

-

**2 – Awakening**

"So…then you knew what I was…"

"Well, you weren't exactly doing a very good job of hiding it…I just put two and two together and…" A weak smile. "But I don't regret it, not one bit."

"But because of me you–"

"It's not your fault…you couldn't have known that–"

"_I_ was the one who brought you out here!"

"I don't blame–"

A series of throaty coughs ensued, bringing up more phlegm tinged blood. The smaller body lied down tenderly, shivering. The blonde pulled the covers tighter around his frail frame, but was unable to fight off the unseen frigidness only he could feel.

"I came because I wanted to," he continued, eyes moist. "I _wanted_ to follow you. I _wanted_ to be with you. From the moment you walked into our café, I knew that you…"

"Don't!" Pale hands grasped limp bronze, squeezing them tightly. "Don't leave me, please! I'm sorry…I'll take you to town, I'll give it all back, I'll fix everything, just please don't…!"

There was a final exhale, followed by a mournful wail that rattled the aging trees to their roots.

-

Seto dropped the last heavy box from the back of the overloaded truck onto the leave-strewn ground and wiped his brow. He wasn't used to sweating, and he had to admit that the idea of your body secreting a salty fluid was more than a little unsettling. Checking his watch again, the privileged brunette stooped down to begin lifting the boxes into the house when a shrill scream pierced through the brisk autumn air, disturbing a flock of crows settled in a nearby tree. Recognizing the noise to be Mokuba, the elder Kaiba rushed into the house, bringing the crowbar just in case his brother had come face to face with a rabid raccoon dog.

The boy's footprints were clear amongst the decade old dust, and Seto immediately ran up the stairs, ducking under hanging cobwebs. He looked around frantically for his little brother, breathing a relieved sigh (and then coughing) when the thirteen year old raced out from an open door, pale as death and covered in sweat.

"Mokuba!"

"Seto! Up…Upstairs in…in the…attic!" He panted, bracing his legs. "There's…there's a…!"

"A what?"

"You…you know those robot dolls that they used to make? The kinds you always see in museums and commercials and stuff?"

"Those Actroid things?"

"Y-Yeah…there's one in the attic; it had to be up there for a long…for a long time but…it's still working!"

"That's impossible. At most a robotic doll from that era should only last…" Seto said slowly, looking past his brother and into the empty bedroom. "Are you sure it moved? Maybe it just fell over and you–"

Mokuba shook his head fervently. "It didn't fall over, it moved! I thought it was broken so I was looking it over to see if we could scrap it for any parts and then all of a sudden it opened its eyes and it…it…!"

"It what?"

"Eh heh, actually I don't know," the younger Kaiba said sheepishly. "I kinda ran after that part."

"Amazing."

"Hey, you would've done the same thing if you…a-actually, nevermind."

Seto smirked. "So is it still up there?"

"I guess so," Mokuba shrugged. "There's only one way down and unless it's behind me right now," he took a panicked glance over his shoulder, "then it's where I left it. It's so _creepy_ Seto!"

"But…?" The other Kaiba said expectantly.

"But nothing! I won't be able to sleep in this house knowing something like _that_ is hanging around in the attic! Maybe if you can reprogram it to do housework or something _then_ it wouldn't be so bad; honestly, I dunno what gender that thing's supposed to be, but it'd look damn good in a skirt! Hey, you okay?"

"Oh it's nothing; I'm just trying to digest the fact that my little brother wants to see an ambiguous looking doll in a maid outfit," Seto muttered, voice deadpan. "Either way, we can't just have it staying up there; if it's still working we can always have it help us maintain the house. Or, as you suggested, try and get some parts from it and sell them to collectors."

"Sounds good to me," Mokuba nodded, walking awkwardly towards the stairs, "tell you what; I'll go outside and deal with all the boxes while you figure out what to do with that…perfectly harmless robot! Gotta go!"

The brunette shook his head as his brother sped down the stairs like a cat after a mouse, wincing when he heard the inevitable trip followed by a string of words a boy his age shouldn't know. Turning his attention to the ladder that led into the attic, he rubbed his hands together and made his way up.

He was greeted by a wave of falling dust as well as by the glassy lilac eyes of the strangely beautiful doll that Mokuba spoke of. It now sat a few inches away from the trap door, kneeling in a sort of loose _seiza_ position. Seto paused to see if it would allow him to enter; when no obvious movements against the gesture were made, he pulled himself up and sat on the opposite side of the door, long legs dangling into the room below. They stared at each other for a long time, cerulean into unblinking purple.

"What are you doing here?" The human said finally, seeing this conversation was going nowhere fast.

"Waiting." It replied simply, feminine voice echoing slightly. Despite this, it didn't sound too artificial.

"For what?"

"For him."

"Him?"

"The one who owns this house."

Seto started. Was there someone else who was supposed to be here? How long had they been gone? When he opened his mouth to pose another question, a loud clank startled both of them out of their respective worlds. Seto stared dumbly at the doll's bronze arm, which was now laying motionless and detached from its body. The blonde looked mildly surprised as well, as it noted it now empty shoulder socket with what could be taken as an irritated look.

"Um…does that happen often?"

To his astonishment, the doll gave him a small smile.

"Yes."

It was the oddest and most pitiful thing Seto had ever seen; a broken robot with a human guise grinning sadly at its own misfortune. He almost felt the urge to hug the poor thing.

But that would be weird.

"That's why he left," it continued, referring to that mysterious 'he' person mentioned earlier. "To fix it."

"I…see," the brunette replied uncomfortably. "What are you…what did he call you?"

"Malik," he said automatically. "Sensei named me Malik."

"Sensei…so you were created by a doctor…"

A frown found its way onto Seto's pale face. He was piecing together the information given to him by the doll called Malik, and was now genuinely intrigued at the mysterious toy found inside his attic. What was it doing up there? Why was it made? And what made the doctor abandon both it _and_ the house?

"But why are _you_ here?" The blonde asked, tilting its head to the side. "I don't think I've seen you before."

It was unnerving to be fixed with such an involuntary piercing stare.

"Why am I…?" He debated whether to tell Malik the truth, lest the doll take violent measures to keep the Kaiba brothers out of its house. However, it did have a rather sweet disposition, and with only one arm at the moment, what was the worse it could do? "We're moving in; I inherited this house when my stepfather died." A pause. Could Gozaburo have created this doll?

"But this house belongs to sensei…"

"Well, it's been a long time since–"

Malik's eyes narrowed. "That doesn't men that sensei doesn't own it anymore."

Seto's mouth twitched. This wasn't going as well as he'd hoped. How'd he find himself arguing with a machine? "Yes, but you have to understand that–"

The blonde somehow managed to stagger into a standing position, looking insulted. "Who was your stepfather?"

"What?"

"He was the one that said you could have our house, right? What was his name?"

"Why is that important?"

"Because there were some people who wanted sensei d–!"

A static pop delayed the answer as Malik's leg suddenly buckled, bringing the doll forward with a yelp. Acting on instinct, Seto grabbed its arm and carried them both backward, the malfunctioning machine now lying heavily on top of him; it was cold, the touch of covered metal upon skin, but the way the blonde clung to his now grey jacket was uniquely human. If he ever found this missing creator, he'd have to congratulate him for such flawless mechanics.

"Maybe we should get you fixed up a bit before we continue this conversation?"

"Fix? Do you know how?"

"I've dabbled in and out of the technology business. Why knows? I might even make you better."

"Better? I-If you think so…then…"

"Look, I won't mess with your programming, alright? So if that's what you're worried about, then just drop it. Now could you please get off me? You're crushing my lungs."

"A-Ah! Sorry!"

-

Mokuba didn't know exactly what he was expecting his brother to do when he encountered the doll, but he certainly didn't expect Seto to reappear in the dust-drenched living room carrying the blonde bridal style with a gaping socket where his arm was supposed to be.

"Can you check to see if Jounouchi has a tool box in the back of his truck?"

"Will I get an explanation if I do?"

"If you want."

"I'm on it," the boy saluted, walking briskly out the front door.

"I saw him earlier," Malik said thoughtfully as he was lowered onto the filthy couch. "But he ran away before we were properly introduced."

"You kind of scared him…"

"Am I scary?"

"Did I say scared? I meant startled." Seto corrected sheepishly.

"I didn't mean to…he was the one that woke me up actually. If he didn't try to grab my…" He looked at his still functioning had and grimaced. "Wow, this place is really dirty! How long have I…?" A look of concern crossed his face. "Seto, right? What…year is it?"

"Twenty-eighty. Why?"

"_E-Eighty_? So it's been almost…"

What's wrong?" Seto asked, concerned at Malik's sudden attitude shift. Another malfunction with its program?

"All the furniture's still here, so that means sensei never…" The shine in the doll's lilac eyes seemed to dull as his expression fell. Without looking up, he grabbed his other arm from Seto's lax grip and literally forced it into place, flexing his fingers to assure they were working properly. Then, as the brunette watched, mouth slightly agape, Malik stretched his leg into an unnatural position until there was an audible pop. Standing up like nothing had happened, the doll muttered a sharp 'excuse me' and walked out of the living room, disappearing after turning a sharp corner.

"Seto, there wasn't a toolbox," Mokuba announced loudly, opening the door with a slam, "but I found this weird wrench thing by the…hey, where'd it go?"

"First of all, _that's_ the truck's stick shift," the elder Kaiba grimaced, sensing a lawsuit on his hands. "Second, I think that thing's wiring is messed up," a sigh, "or maybe it's got dust where it shouldn't have."

"Huh, there's a _lot_ of places on the human body you'd never wanna find dust…NOT that I would know of such things," the boy said hastily.

"As soon as we get this place cleaned up, I'm washing your mouth out with soap."

"So while we're waiting for Jounouchi, are we just gonna sleep in his truck or something? Because it smells like guy in there."

"Well unless you'd rather give yourself premature lung cancer by breathing in this dust," Seto shrugged.

"Point taken. Every room in this house is like, a biohazard. Except…there's this one room upstairs that I couldn't get into; I think it's locked from the inside."

"The one closest to the stairs, right?"

"Yeah, that one! Did the doll say anything about it when you passed by?"

"He said it was his creator's study, but I don't think he's ever been allowed inside."

"I say we break it open and raid it for gold!" Mokuba said, pumping his fist. "There's a lot of good stuff in here that people would go insane over if we ever held an auction!"

"Mokuba, what's past the dining room?" Seto changed the subject so abruptly it caught his younger brother off guard. "I think I saw Malik walk past it…"

"Its name is Malik? That's…exotic. Oh," he blinked. "Um…There's a sunroom with an old baby grand in there and some music books. Why?"

"…It's nothing. Listen, stay here while I try to convince him to help us clean up; I don't know what set him off, but having a doll mope around the house isn't particularly helpful."

"Gotcha," Mokuba called after, sticking his hands into his pockets. "I'll wait right here! Yup…all by myself…in a creepy old house with a robotic doll. Because that's not terrifying at all."

He looked around nervously, having just weirded himself out. A small scrap of white wedged between the pillow cushions caught his eye, and he recognized it as being the piece of paper Malik was clinging to when they had been in the attic. Checking to see if the blonde doll was looming over his shoulder, he ducked down and picked it up, unfolding it quietly and discovering it was a scratched up, faded photograph. The color had long since been washed away, presumably by the sun (as the doll was sitting in front of a window), but he could still make out some vague features. A knowing smile, and pale hair that fell into batlike bangs over sharp eyes. Scribbled in the corner was a signature in the same language as the book pages Mokuba had found in one of the upstairs rooms.

"Call me crazy, but I _think_ we found sensei…"

-

Seto found Malik sitting alone on the piano's bench drawing circles in the dust, knees pulled up to his chest. His blonde bangs fell over his eyes, but the elder Kaiba knew that his expression was the same as when he had left the room. The way the sunlight played on his artificial body was so natural it was hard to believe he was composed of wires and silicone instead of flesh and blood. His emotions were certainly human enough.

"So, did you play that broken doll routine with your creator too?" Seto said stiffly, crossing his arms.

"All the time."

"What a morbid hobby."

"He never came back, did he?" Malik said quietly. "That's why your stepfather gave you this house…because it was abandoned."

"That's right. What of it?"

Malik smiled before lowering his head even further and turning away. If he were capable of shedding tears, Seto was sure he'd be crying right now.

"That means sensei abandoned _me_ too, doesn't it?"

-

Hm, I rewrote this chapter a few times, and there's still something about it that doesn't make me completely satisfied. Huh, oh well, review anyway and I'll notify you of any major changes (if there are any).

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	3. Music

**Ningyo **

**Summary:** While exploring a newly inherited house, Mokuba stumbles across a life sized robotic doll in the attic. The odd, yet beautiful creation arouses Seto's interest, and the tragic love story behind the house's origin begins to unfold.

**Rated:** T

**Genre:** Mystery

**Author's Note: **I'm so happy this story's getting some attention! You guys are awesome! I missed my weekly update by a day…I blame college horrors.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, but I'm getting close.

-

**3 – Music**

"S-Sensei you…!"

"Malik," he breathed, staring into pale green eyes. "It's not as if I…I still…"

"I won't let you do this to me," the doll hissed.

"I'd obviously gone a little overboard while working on your encoding," the doctor hissed, running a shaking hand through ice white hair. "Trust me; you won't even know what happened!"

"Don't speak to me as if I'm not even–!"

"You're not! Where in the hell did you even get the idea that you _were_ human?"

"WELL WHAT THE HELL WAS I SUPPOSED TO THINK?"

"Malik you–!"

"How could you?" Another doll cried appearing to his left, rose-colored eyes narrowed. "How can you call that fake Malik? _I'm_ Malik!"

"No…no, you're not really…"

"Don't listen to that _thing_ sensei," a blue-eyed Malik purred seductively, draping itself over his shoulders. "You and I both know that the only one you love is _me_…"

"I–!"

"Snake! How dare you touch sensei with such filthy hands!" A fourth growled, this one with golden lenses. "All of you know that sensei loves me!"

"In your dreams," the fifth Malik scoffed, tossing its hair. He fixed his pale grey eyes onto his inventor's mahogany. "It's _me_, isn't it sensei?"

"No, me!"

"Be quiet, it's obviously me!"

"You're delusional."

"_You're_ nothing but a second rate doll!"

"Are you blind? You're the doll!"

"Wrong, all of you are the dolls, it's me who's real!"

'What was I thinking…' The doctor thought frantically, watching his perfect creations start to tear each other apart. 'How many did I make…' Five perfect copies of the original, each pleading to be acknowledged as the real one. 'How many are left…' There was only one more to be awakened, the one with the lilac eyes. 'Why are they all so angry…' Each programmed with the same blind devotion as the one they were modeled after.

An eye twitch. How selfish he was, annoyed with all of them for being unable to do the one thing he admired most about Malik.

"I'll tell you what," the only human in the house declared, holding up a pad of paper. "The real Malik will be revealed after I play this song."

-

"So not only do you guys get a house that's worth about ten years of my salary for absolutely nothing, but it comes with a free maid doll too? You know what I found when I moved into my apartment? A wasp nest and about six rats having sex in the sink."

"Geez Jounouchi, bitter much?" Mokuba laughed, carrying two stacks of chipped plates. He wobbled a little when a strong gust of chilly wind blew past, whipping fallen leaves into the air, making them dance in impossible arcs. He let out a disgruntled sigh. As beautiful as Kyoto was in the autumn, the cold was almost unbearable, especially for a city kid like himself.

"Just a touch," the blonde said sarcastically, setting the old armchair into the truck. "At least give me some of the furniture; this stuff looks classy."

"It'd be unfitting."

"You little…"

"What else do we still need to bring out?" Seto asked from inside the truck, a long black scarf wrapped around his neck. He sat atop a small wooden coffee table, taking a break from the day's heavy lifting…which he still wasn't used to.

"There's a couple more bookcases, that huge piano, and all the stuff that's still in the locked room," Jounouchi replied, wiping the sweat from his brow. "And then there's the doll. What're you guys planning to do with that thing anyway? It's too cute to sell to some pedophile creep. My dad would probably be first in line, come to think of it…"

"Seto's gonna reprogram it to help me with my math homework! Right?"

"Not going to happen," the brunette answered dully.

"The reprogramming or the homework help?"

"Both."

"No offence, but it's not like you to keep something around if it's got no use to you. What're you gonna do with a robot that's still pining for the guy who created it?"

"Reprogramming something like that is something you do as a last resort," Seto said, leaning back. "The way Malik works is amazing, all the emotions he's displayed are probably as close to organic as anyone's ever gotten. To erase all that hard work and replace it with how to wash dishes…" He shook his head. "What a waste."

"Guess you got a point there," Jounouchi admitted. "You know, I got a friend nearby who's pretty good with technology like that. Maybe I should bring him over sometime to have a look."

"I already told you that I didn't want him reprogrammed."

"I'm just saying is all. Defensive much?"

"Just do your job," Seto muttered, stepping out of the truck.

"Ugh, I'm starving," Mokuba whined, grabbing his brother's sleeve. "Can't we go into town and get some hot udon?"

"We've still got a lot of work left though…"

"Seto, the house isn't going to go anywhere," the small boy said bluntly.

"But the things inside might mysteriously disappear. And I don't trust this one," an offhand gesture towards Jounouchi.

"What if Jounouchi took me?"

"Jounouchi…?" Seto said expectantly.

"You'd trust me with your little brother faster than you would with your furniture?"

"Mokuba can scream and bite if you try to kidnap him. The poor sofa however, cannot."

"Fine, but only if you let me use that car again," the blonde smiled, amber eyes narrowing. "And if you give me some cash."

"Just bring them both back in one piece, alright?"

"Speak for yourself," Jounouchi scoffed. "You want us to bring you anything?"

"Whatever you want," Seto shrugged, waving them both off. "Be good Mokuba."

"I won't!" He answered cheekily.

-

Malik was still sitting on the piano bench, eyes closed and looking very relaxed 'sunbathing' in a patch of light that never seemed to disappear, no matter what time of day it was. Seto approached slowly, but confidently, tapping the blonde on the shoulder.

"Hey."

"Good morning."

"You're sounding glummer than usual today."

"Are you planning on taking the piano next?"

"Actually, I was thinking about keeping it," the other said truthfully. "It's one of the few things that give this house character. Other than you of course." A smirk. "Heh…then again, I don't think I could get rid of you even if I wanted to."

"Smart man," Malik blinked, turning to face the tall brunette. "I'd have thought character meant nothing to you…seeing as how you've emptied the house of everything else."

"We have our own stuff to put in you know."

"Congratulations."

"Not to say that any of it's better than what was already here…"

His reply was a series of notes played in a random melody.

"You really like that old thing, don't you?" Seto asked, sitting beside the doll.

"Sensei used to play it all the time," Malik said wistfully, tapping the highest key. "He'd always look at me whenever he'd play it, like he as waiting for me to do something. I never figured out what though…" He titled his head slightly. "Maybe that's why he left."

"Do you have any music pieces left?"

"I tried looking for some yesterday night while you were sleeping; all of them are too worn out."

"Why weren't you sleeping?"

"Hello, doll? I don't sleep; I go on standby, hee!" He looked up suddenly. "Oh…there's one song I remember…" Quickly, he drew out lines of music in surprising detail on the top of the dusty piano.

Blue eyes widened. "That was…"

"Chiisana Te no Hira," Malik recalled, nodding his head. "Sensei called Chiisana Te no Hira. It was my favorite, so he'd play it for me all the time." A thoughtful look. "It felt like it needed something more though…"

"Were there words to it?" the other asked, testing out a few notes.

"Words?"

"Like…lyrics. Was it a song you were supposed to sing to?"

The doll looked at the written lines and then back at the piano keys, as if trying to piece something together. He shrugged, "I don't know…he never said it was."

"Maybe he expected you to know that on your own." Seto offered.

"I wouldn't be surprised," Malik sulked, lilac eyes downcast. "He never said it outright, but I think he expected too much of me sometimes…"

"Well it's not like you couldn't have tried. The only limitations you have are–"

"Limitations? I'm a _doll_ Seto; I can only do what I was programmed to do. Who knows?" A smile. "Maybe the only reason I miss him so much is because I was made to do so. Any human would've had enough sense to give up after the person they've waited for didn't show up after the first month. But to think I waited for fifty years…and I _still_ feel like there's still something left to wait for. It's kind of pathetic."

"Just a little," Seto sighed, playing out the first line, watching Malik's expression soften.

"So what did he do? The one that made you? He was a doctor, right?"

The blonde nodded.

"But he obviously had to have some skill in machinery to make you."

"Does it matter? He's gone now," he answered moodily. "Either dead or too old to remember who I was."

"Well you don't know what really happened to him, do you?" Seto asked, looking out the window.

"I don't need to know. I don't _want_ to know. He lied to me…said he was going to town only to abandon me…he left me…isn't that enough?"

"Maybe for you," the human stretched, playing more of the piece, noticing how whenever he played, Malik always looked like he was poised to do _something_, but seemed to hold himself back. "But I won't be satisfied until that room upstairs is cracked open."

"But…why?"

"Because if your creator wouldn't even let _you_ see inside, then it has to be hiding something important," he hit a sour note, much to the doll's annoyance. "Don't you agree?"

"And all of this is your business _because_…?"

"Because I know you're curious too. Right?"

"I'm not curious," Malik said defensively, pouting. "…But my wiring says otherwise."

Seto grinned and reached over to press a button on one of the doll's ears, causing it to open with a faint whir, revealing a small, blinking motherboard of chips and multicolored circuits. There were also two empty ports illuminated by an internal green light.

"Wiring looks fine to me."

"Well that was _rude_!" he squealed indignantly, closing his odd appendage with a click. "How'd you like it if I opened _your_ head up and poked around?"

"Sorry, but seeing as you have a _button_, it was too hard to resist."

-

"Ba…ku…ra Ka…ga…mi," the boy ground out, reading the English lettering with much difficulty. He spun the little wheel on the middle of the mouse and scrolled down, more foreign letters battering his eyeballs. Instead of going straight back to the house after about nine bowls of udon between them, Jounouchi and Mokuba went to the nearest internet café, the younger explaining that he wanted to do some research on the picture he'd found. After getting the not-so-dumb blonde to help him decipher the English scribbled on the photograph, all he had to do was type it into a search engine and let the magical wonders of technology do the rest.

"Well, he's definitely Japanese," Jounouchi commented, taking a sip of coffee. "Probably grew up in the states though, considering where he got his medical degree."

"Plus all those books in his room were in English too," the young Kaiba added. "Can you read anything else about him?"

"My English is a bit rusty kid…"

"So you _are_ an idiot."

A sigh. "Okay so…uh…it says he graduated youngest in his class, double majored in Computer Science, specialized in alternative medicine, unmarried, blah blah blah, moved out of the country when…whoa, _hello_." He scooted closer to the screen.

"What is it?" Mokuba blinked.

"It says here he moved out of the country when rumors started flying around about he manipulated his elderly and terminal patients into putting his name onto their wills. That's pretty major…"

"Meaning?"

"He probably acted all sweet and caring to the ones he already knew had no chance just to get a piece of their cash. The sicko…"

"Does it say anything about him making dolls?"

"I guess he did all that stuff in secret," Jounouchi shrugged, "because it's not here."

"Well at least we've figured out that our house used to belong to a con-artist." Mokuba said optimistically. "Now that only leaves about a billion more questions I need to know."

The blonde continued to click through the pages, staring blankly through the meaningless facts and data, pausing when he came across a startling photo.

"Mokuba," he said urgently, pulling the boy's sleeve. "Who does that look like to you?"

Said Kaiba looked up from his notebook and peered into the computer screen. The small, slightly blurry image featured the doctor, whom he knew from his own picture, and a younger boy at his side, smiling sheepishly at something. Though the picture was in grayscale, it was obvious the unknown boy had darker skin compared to Bakura, though his hair was just as light. Neither was looking directly at whatever took the picture, making the two guess it was candid.

"Is that Malik?" Mokuba said disbelievingly.

"Minus the ears it looks like…"

"So…does that mean that he really existed as a…"

"Oi, Jounouchi," A new voice called, his arrival announced by the jingling bells above the café door. "So I made it. If this doll thing isn't as interesting as you made it out to be, then consider our friendship on the rocks. And I'm not talking about the nice smooth kind."

Amber eyes regarded the sun kissed skin of his childhood friend; light silver hair, slanted grey eyes, and an unusual scar under his right eye made him quite a sight to behold. Though, threatening as he appeared, Jounouchi knew he had an exploitable weakness for technology.

"Touzoku…you're early."

"You called me this morning," the other replied irritably.

"Well you're just in time," Jounouchi grinned. "Things are just starting to get interesting."

-

Midway point reached and I just keep adding more stuff.

Suicidal.

Anyway, I have enough time this week to reply to your reviews (again), so feel free to ask me anything so I can answer you in riddles. Congratulations to everyone who figured out it was Bakura! ...Though, it was kind of obvious. It was either gonna be him or Mariku, so you had like a 50 percent chance of getting it right. Oh, and _Chiisana Te no Hira_ is a song from...CLANNAD I think? It's got a nice piano melody, so yeah.

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	4. Investigation

**Ningyo **

**Summary:** While exploring a newly inherited house, Mokuba stumbles across a life sized robotic doll in the attic. The odd, yet beautiful creation arouses Seto's interest, and the tragic love story behind the house's origin begins to unfold. [Mild YAOI]

**Rated:** T

**Genre:** Mystery

**Author's Note:** Obviously, the whole, 'I'll finish this by Halloween' thing is out of the question. Good news is I've firmly decided that I'm making a prequel. This chapter is…revealing and also a bit confusing. Read carefully. Also, Touzoku is bomb.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, but I'm getting close.

-

**4 – Investigation**

"I'm afraid your condition is terminal," Bakura said sympathetically, drumming his fingers on the clipboard. "I ran several tests and personally went over the results of your blood work; there are only a few procedures that would help you…however," a grim expression, "they'd only give you a few more months at the most."

"I don't want to put any more stress on my family," the dying man said solemnly, lowering his gaze. "But…"

"I know what you mean, patients in your position always have the same difficult choices to make," the doctor said nonchalantly, having gone through this process several times before. "However, I think the best thing for both you and your family is to let nature take its course."

"How much pain would I…?"

"We have multiple ways of making the rest of your time here as comfortable as possible," he replied calmly, beginning to work his charms. "But Mr. Ishtar, let me just say that it was an honor to be of service to you."

…

"I'll see you tomorrow," Bakura said passively, pulling his rain coat on. "Make sure the patient in the fourth ICU room gets an increase in morphine."

"Another terminal case?" the brunette nurse asked sympathetically, jotting down the order on her clipboard. "You seem to be getting assigned a lot of those lately."

"God knows I don't ask for them," he lied, propping up the collar. "It's a game I can't ever seem to win."

"Have a nice night sir," the other said sweetly, heels clicking on the cold linoleum.

The white haired physician stepped into the waiting elevator car and drummed his fingers against the handle of his umbrella, wondering if his ass kissing was sufficient enough to have his name written on the dying man's will. It wasn't too much of a concern if it wasn't; he'd just charm the family members into a 'donation.' At a soft chime, Bakura swung his briefcase over his shoulder and gave the desk secretary a brief nod before exiting the building.

He loitered around the awning in front of the hospital and opened his umbrella, nearly getting nicked in the eye by an unruly spoke. He was about to head home when a noisy splash alerted him to an oddly shaped black blob running in his direction. It took a moment for the figure of a sloppily dressed blonde to emerge, sopping wet and clearly tired.

Bakura frowned. "Visiting hours are over," he called out, assuming that's what the young man was there for. "You're about six minutes late."

"You're kidding," he panted, long hair falling over his face.

"Sorry," the other said uncaringly, beginning to walk, "Try again tomorrow."

"But-!"

"Rules are rules, and in the medical field they can't be broken. That's how people _die_."

Lilac eyes glared angrily from soaked bangs. "Hey…you're that guy from the café last night!"

"What…?" Bakura blinked, looking back. A cold fist clenched over his chest at the sight of the familiar uniform and even more familiar face of the exotic looking young man.

"After what I did for you, the least you can do is let me in to see my brother."

"…Marik, right?"

"Ma_lik_," the blonde snapped, pulling down his hood.

"Whatever," Bakura coughed. "Listen, what did you say your last name was again?"

"It's Ishtar. My step-brother's been admitted for a while now and our insurance stopped covering his bills." An annoyed sigh. "And it's not like I make enough to make much of a difference…"

'Won't have to worry about _that_ anymore,' the doctor thought grimly. "Right, _Ishtar_. His name is Rishid? He's one of my current patients."

"One of your…?"

"He was recently transferred into my department a few weeks ago, didn't you know?"

"I…I haven't had the time to…" Malik looked away guiltily. "Look, I'll conveniently forget what an ass you were last night if you just let me slide this once."

"You know, when one person saves another person from being fired, it's usually considered a _favor_."

"You made me look like an idiot!"

"But you weren't fired…" Bakura shrugged.

"_Sensei_…"

The physician smirked. Malik was actually pretty cute when he got worked up, especially when he used that particular term. And the connection between such an attractive specimen and his latest project was more than a little convenient. If he could stomach being nice to a soon to be dead patient, then charming a naïve young waiter should be nothing.

"Alright," he sighed in mock defeat, "just this once. I'll join you, there's some things you need to catch up on. A lot has happened in the past few days."

"You mean it?" The blonde said hopefully, eyes taking on a sudden glow. "Th-Thank you!"

An odd tingle flickered down his spine at the sight of the young man's grateful smile. It was different than the ones he had seen before. Bakura shook his head irritably, moving to reenter the building.

"You might want to dry yourself off first."

-

Seto found himself in a rather compromising position. He had become fed up with waiting for Jounouchi to return his brother (or was it the other way around?) and decided to pry open the locked door without their presence. However, carrying a large crowbar through the house must have, for _some_ reason, alarmed the resident doll, as it had latched on to the brunette's arm with a look of pure panic on its face.

"What are you going to do?"

"I plan to break down the door to see what's inside," Seto answered nonchalantly. "You know, to kill time until Mokuba comes back."

"Are you _insane_?"

"No, but I _am_ the owner of this house. Now let go! For such a little thing you weigh a ton!"

"HEY!"

"I won't hurt the door!"

A childish whine came as a response.

"Honestly Malik, if you don't let go I'll…" A sudden shine came onto otherwise frigid blue eyes. "On second thought, hold on tight!"

Before Malik could respond, he was slammed into the closed door and nearly had his circuits snapped. Luckily, as Bakura would always say, he had a hard head. Seeing one hit wasn't enough, the brunette raised the protesting doll for a second. Before another impact was made, Malik released his grip and thumped onto the dusty floor, looking adorably peeved.

"_Give me that_!" it snapped disapprovingly, grabbing the crowbar. "What is wrong with you?"

"Don't tell me you aren't just a tiny bit curious to see what your sensei has been hiding from you," Seto sneered, crossing his arms. "Sorry, that's just your _wiring_, right?"

"Sensei may have left me here to rust but he is _still_ allowed to have some privacy!"

"You're being completely unreasonable. You've been here longer than he has, haven't you? For all I care, this is _your_ house now."

Lilac eyes blinked in confusion, the blonde's grip on the iron bar becoming slack. "M-My house…?"

"I'm not in the mood for any angst or self reflection," Seto growled, snatching the tool. "So if you must sulk, do so where I can't hear you."

"I wasn't going to –!" the doll paused, pursing cold lips. "If…if you must. Just don't damage the–"

_CRUNCH_

"…Wood."

"Sorry," Seto grunted, forcing the iron bar from the door.

"You are not," Malik huffed through the fog of dust.

The smirk was wiped off Seto's face as soon as the door fell forward and revealed the contents of the large room. It was just as dusty and aged as the rest of the house, though it was considerably more disorganized than the other rooms, even the open study. There was no obvious light source, the only illumination being provided by the rising afternoon sun, filtered by a boarded window. Towards the far left, concealed by a large stack of anatomy books was a corkboard covered with torn photographs of what looked to be Malik from different angles. He was smiling in some, frowning in others, and looked to be surprised in most.

But this obsessive gesture wasn't what froze Seto to his spot. A disembodied arm fell noisily from a literal pile of twisted figures identical to the lilac-eyed doll standing just inches behind him, all their faces blank.

"What is it?" Said doll demanded, pressing his back.

"Don't look," the brunette breathed slowly, eyes unable to look away from a pair of rose tinted glass.

"Why…?"

"Just _stay out_."

He counted five broken dolls, heaped together in a morbid pile like display mannequins. All were clothed in the same fabric, all had the same light golden hair, all had the same dark skin. Prying his eyes away from the gruesome heap, he noticed a wooden desk practically hidden under a pile of detached limbs. A soft gasp signaled the active doll had already glimpsed the fate of the unlucky machines.

Seto finally walked into the room and immediately shoved the broken parts from the desk. He gathered some loose pieces of yellowing paper from underneath, anatomical sketches and measurements decorating the pages.

'This is how he made them,' the brunette realized, looking from the photographs to the notes. 'All these books and calculations…'

A light rattle brought Seto's attention to the working doll, which was looking curiously at its fallen predecessors, specifically the one with jade colored eyes.

"Don't touch anything," he said sharply, picking up a bound diary.

"Same to you."

"My house," Seto sniffed.

"_My story_," Malik smirked, waving a hand in front of the broken robot. "So I wasn't the only one sensei left behind."

"Why are there so many…?"

"They're all the same."

"This means there must have been an original."

"I guess it wasn't me…"

"What about the one in the photographs?"

"He _looks_ like me."

"But he isn't you."

"I wonder what else sensei's lied about," Malik grumbled, tapping his foot.

"This may hold the answers," Seto offered, holding up the diary. "But since you respect your sensei's privacy so damn much…"

"You would trust the judgment of a doll?"

"You're just full of it, aren't you," the other snorted, carefully prying open the lock with his crowbar.

The gold clasp fell with a cute clink, and Seto opened the small book without much hesitation. However, he was disappointed to discover that the pages were inked with compact English lettering, a language he was woefully unfamiliar with. He didn't like to think of this as a handicap, merely a…misfortune. No matter. He'd be able to piece together the words he did know and make some sense of it.

Ideally.

"What does it say?" Malik chirped excitedly.

"August 26, 2027," he began, as the date was the only thing he was able to read. "Um…there's some stuff about a tree a few miles from here…then some more stuff about…stuff."

The doll clasped its hands in mock admiration. "Stuff happened as he was doing stuff to a random tree a few miles from the house? Oh _Seto_…give me the diary and stop embarrassing yourself." It finished with a critical expression.

"No, I–"

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone…" Malik nodded, looking impossibly cute.

"If you don't want to end up in that heap," Seto gestured at the pile of identical figures, "then you better keep your word."

"Are you kidding? My sole purpose is to please my master and look flawless while doing it," the blonde cooed, electronic voice laced with an unfamiliar emotion.

-

_August 26, 2027_

…_I scattered the ashes underneath the maple tree a few miles from here. I never thought in all my years of medicine that I'd ever had to personally burn one of my victims. Then again, I never thought I'd be stupid enough to actually _fall_ for one of them either. I won't deny that I fell hard, harder than anyone's ever supposed to fall. And yet, I can't bring myself to think of him as anything more than a victim. Though, I think this is the first time I've ever thought of myself as a murderer. Sometimes I wonder if that was his plan from the beginning; string me along like a dog only to rip my heart out through death. Maybe this was his way of avenging Rishid? _

_But the more I think about it, the more ludicrous that notion is. Malik was a spitfire, yes, but I'd like to believe there was some truth in his dying words. After all, why waste your last breath telling a lie? Then again, I wouldn't put it past him. The kid was so full of contradictions; sweet and warm one moment, sarcastic and cold the next. I knew I _loved_ (what a word) Malik, but I was never sure that he felt the same way until the day he died. I mean, there had to be a reason why he followed me all the way to Japan. I'd always ask him, but getting a straight answer was like pulling teeth out of a feral wolf. In fact, I always had the feeling he resented me. Maybe that's why I never thought of how I'd feel after he was gone. Granted, I assumed the cold hand of death wouldn't caress his face until much later. Disease is always an unwelcome visitor. _

_I'm not sure what I should do now. All those years of selfish actions have finally caught up with me. I can't go home to the states; no doubt the authorities have already notified my family of what I'd been doing, and though I know they'd stick up for me against any accusation, the idea of conning grieving families out of money is repulsive. Even to me. But if Malik continued to support me knowing this…then he was either extremely stupid or extremely dangerous. I'll never know what he truly thought of me, if there was spite mixed with that love, or hate behind those pale eyes. I only know one thing. I'll never, ever get over him._

_Again, the thought of this being his master plan to ruin me pops up. I try my hardest to push it away, but my paranoia is understandable I hope. I've done a lot of horrible things in my life, it's only right that I'm tortured for feeling human for the first time in a long time. However, I don't think I'll be able to rest until I address this itch face to face. _

_So how is one supposed to speak to the dead? Simple. I've spent years reducing myself into something less than human, and if Malik was truly in love with me, then he'd appreciate me doing the same to him (again, I'm assuming a lot from this boy). Humans, despite their self-centered thoughts of being unique and irreplaceable, are all built the same way. Nothing is unique. _

Everything_ can be recreated. _

-

"So do you know anything about this Bakura Kagami guy?"

"What would make you think I'd know anything about this guy?" Touzoku asked coolly, not looking up from his laptop.

"Well you gotta admit you two look a lot alike," the blonde commented from the driver's seat. "We were thinking maybe you were distantly related or something."

"Assumptions, especially from you, are almost always wrong."

"But you said you've seen something like the doll we have, right?" Mokuba chirped, looking over the passenger's side. "Was it in a museum? …Or a porn site?"

"Robot pornography went out of style three decades ago," the other said knowledgeably. "But I _have_ come across some foreign internet articles with pictures similar to the design you described."

'_Was it even a _doll_ though?'_ he thought suddenly.

"Maybe Malik was mass produced?" the boy pondered aloud.

"I doubt it. The construction is attractive enough, but dolls that functioned for reasons other than household chores and sexual gratification were few and far between. If the one you have based off a real person like you claim, then its only purpose was companionship."

"So…it _can't_ help me with homework?"

"With a full reprogramming maybe. But that'd be such a _waste_…" Touzoku looked thoughtfully out the window, watching the cityscape slowly fade into a lovely wilderness. A few minutes in, they passed an old maple tree; its trunk twisted and pulled into a beautiful shape. "Even if it's useless in terms of service, the work put into programming it to seems almost human, it should be preserved."

"Always the wire hugger this one," Jounouchi muttered, making a sharp turn. "At least wait until you meet it before you make any decisions."

"The kid said it was pretty timid."

"Yeah, but it's still creepy." Mokuba shuddered. "It's like there's something _off_ with it. I know it's a doll and everything, but…ooh, I'm getting all weird just thinking about it."

"So am I," Touzoku agreed, hiding a smirk.

-

Why do I always have Malik as a waiter in my fics? Well...can you imagine him in an _apron_? CUTE!

Review please! There are two chapters left, and then I'll get started on the prequel…in which there are like…too many Maliks to keep track of. GOD I LOVE HIM.

**Please, R E V I E W !**

**(Thank you!)**


	5. Jaded

**Ningyo **

**Summary:** While exploring a newly inherited house, Mokuba stumbles across a life sized robotic doll in the attic. The odd, yet beautiful creation arouses Seto's interest, and the tragic love story behind the house's origin begins to unfold. [Mild YAOI]

**Rated:** T

**Genre:** Mystery

**Author's Note:** thanks to everyone who reviewed! I love you all~ Allow me to imprint another Adorable Malik Mental Image (AMMI) into your brain: **Malik wearing earmuffs.** CUTE!!

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, but I'm getting close.

-

**5 – Jaded**

"I don't think you should go with him Bakura," Ryou voiced nervously, rubbing his hands together. "There's something…_off_ about Malik."

"Well I'm not staying _here_," the twin snapped, sitting on top of his briefcase and flipping the clasps shut. "I can't believe I was so stupid! The _one time_ I forgot to…" He took a deep breath. "Whatever. It doesn't matter anyway; what's done is done."

"If you turn yourself in, there's a chance the courts will grant you a lighter sentence…"

"Not exactly the most helpful thing to mention right now." Bakura growled, leaving the empty bedroom.

"Sorry, it's just…" The normally pale boy was flushed pink. "I can't believe this is happening… How could you?"

"Don't give me any lip Ryou," he said darkly, white spikes whipping behind him as he sped down the stairs. "This house, this _life_ was all my doing. And don't you dare deny that you didn't enjoy every moment of it."

"If I'd have _known_ how you got all this–!"

"What? You'd have turned me in and gone running back to that stinking little ditch we crawled out of? Do you think I'm stupid?"

Ryou retreated a little, eyes wide. "B-Bakura…I…"

"_Please_," the other panted, dragging his heavy luggage towards the door, hair disheveled. "Just be quiet!"

"I promise I won't say anything…" he looked up sadly. "But listen to me when I say that he's not right. Something is _wrong_ with him." He handed his brother a scarf. "Be careful…"

"Just forget it Ryou," Bakura ground out, wrapping the cloth around his neck hurriedly. "I'll call you when I get to the airport."

"What will I tell Amane?"

"Just make something up!"

"But–!"

"Business trip, special patient, research, anything!" The doctor barked, opening the door.

The twins jumped in surprise at the sight of Malik standing outside, hand poised to knock, a small suitcase at his side. His long hair was tied into a messy ponytail, lilac eyes looking around nervously.

"S-Sorry!" he exclaimed, bowing. "Am I late? I took the detour route here to make sure I wasn't being followed and in the third alley there was this huge group of stray cats that thought my cell phone charm was a toy, and…"

"Shut up, we have to _go_," Bakura commanded, grabbing his shoulder roughly. "Hurry up before it starts raining again!"

"R-Right!"

Ryou lingered in the doorway, pale fingers grasping the wood forcibly. He bit his lower lip hesitantly, turmoil raging in his conscious. Bakura _had_ to know…

"Malik!"

Said blonde looked over his shoulder quickly, an unreadable expression on his face.

"I won't sell my brother out to the police," he said shakily, stepping out into the cold. "But I can't guarantee I won't tell them about _you_."

Bakura paused, looking to his brother with a puzzled expression. But Malik's eyes were illuminated with an eerie light. There was a definite cruelness in the smile he displayed shortly afterwards.

"I don't know what you mean," he said lightly, his childish tone filling the younger twin with dread.

"We don't have time for this Ryou," the doctor insisted.

"Bakura…_he_…!"

Ryou was silenced with a frightfully threatening glare from the innocent Malik.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about," the blonde continued in the same clueless manner, "but it can't be worse than stealing money from dead people, can it?"

The younger twin stepped back into the house, averting his gaze shamefully. "Th-that's true…"

-

_December 22, 2030_

_Something's…five dolls. All…think…real, there's no…impossible. I don't…however, there was another…, but I…know. All are…everywhere…they'd be…horribly wrong. The one…green…first…brash…it's exactly…before…here. Though it seems…being real, I'm…feeling of …before…died. Was…Malik…was? Did he really…was…nature? A…manipulative…who…only…killed his brother? Then again, all…malfunctioning; it's not…they've…violent. It isn't right…judge Malik…simulation, no…the real thing. All …shut down… own hand. The…attic…Malik. I need…hiding…speak…dead, then…next…thing. I just pray…last one, the…wanted…Malik, won't…first five have. _

_Malik, if…having…laugh. But…figure…it kills me. _

-

"Well that didn't make any sense," Malik blinked, turning the diary upside down.

"The writing's faded," Seto sighed, grabbing the book and flipping through the remaining pages. "It's like that on every page afterwards. And look at this…" he showed the doll the last entry.

"October 4, 2032…I think that was when he left!"

"What?"

"I remember…that's the day sensei went into town."

"It's scribbled over with black marker…" the brunette muttered, blue eyes narrowing. "Why would he have…?"

"Maybe he changed his mind after he was done writing?"

"No offense, but he doesn't seem like the kind of person who liked to censor his thoughts, no matter how…_wrong_ they were. He admitted to creating all of you just because he couldn't figure out the real one when he was alive…"

"I don't think that's a _bad_ thing though," Malik pouted, taking the diary back. "It just means that Malik really intrigued him."

"Or irked him enough to warrant a do-over."

"Always so pessimistic, aren't you?"

"Look who's talking."

"Either way, at least we know a _little_ bit more," the blonde said hopefully. "It doesn't help me know what happened to him or why he left …but at least it's something."

Seto looked over the photographs littering the wall, all of the original 'Malik,' who was apparently so fascinating that he took more than a lifetime to figure out. Granted his 'lifetime' was only about twenty some years, but still.

"Who _was_ this guy?"

"Seto! We're back!" The youthful voice of Mokuba bounced excitedly off aged walls.

"Upstairs in the first room," Seto called back.

"Took them a while," Malik noted. "It's almost sunset."

"I'm sure they had lots of fun eating really big noodles," the other responded dully.

A stampede of footsteps ascended the stairs, and two of the three latecomers piled into the room, displaying the same reactions the other pair had upon first entering.

"There's _more_?" Jounouchi exclaimed, mouth hanging open.

"Guess what Seto, Jounouchi called his super moody techno geek pal to come over and give Malik a once over to see if there's anything worth salvaging." Mokuba said matter-of-factly, eyeing the doll.

"C-Can you at least discuss this _after_ I stop working?" Malik squealed, hiding behind the tall brunette.

"You _what_?" Seto snarled, rounding on Jounouchi. "After I specifically told you that I didn't want–"

"_Relax_ tough guy, he's only going to _look_ at it," the other spat, matching the larger man's ferocity. "He had to pick up a few things from the back of the car, he should be up here any minute."

"If he tries anything without my permission–"

"Attached already?"

"Malik is _my_ property!"

"Sensei…?"

The argument paused briefly as the svelte robot walked carefully towards the bewildered Touzoku, arms full of tangled wires and a balancing a very expensive looking laptop on his knee. An expression of utter incredulity mixed with an overwhelming relief was apparent on the doll's face; it was eerily lifelike.

"Excuse me?" the other choked out, unable to look away from the lilac eyes.

"Aren't you…" It paused, then drew back, suddenly looking very embarrassed. "I mean, sorry!" A clumsy bow. "I thought that you were…but that's impossible…" It straightened up and looked painfully demure. "I'm Malik."

"Touzoku," he replied shakily, still stunned at being approached in such an abrupt manner.

"I suppose you're the 'geek' that Jounouchi has been rambling about," Seto drawled, a tinge of disproval in his tone.

"_Geek_?" Touzoku repeated, giving the blonde human a sharp glare. "Maybe to some, but I prefer to think of myself as a 'skilled technician.'"

"I won't let you reprogram it."

"I've no interest in reprogramming him. I simply came to observe."

"Observing does not require the equipment you've brought."

"I observe differently than most people," Touzoku replied smartly.

"He might know a thing or two about Malik's origin," Jounouchi explained, looking through a pile of newly discovered photographs. "Though it seems you two have been doing some detective work on your own."

"You look like its creator," the ever-blunt Seto commented.

"Yeah, I kind of gathered that," Touzoku responded moodily, looking to the now quiet Malik. "But I don't know anything about the guy, so don't ask."

"I wasn't going to."

"However, I _can_ look for some backlogged stuff in the doll's head; see if there are any repressed files that the creator didn't want to be recovered. I'm guessing by the pile of bodies over there that something went wrong…five times."

"You're gonna plug Malik into your computer?" Mokuba asked excitedly. "Can you see if he has Solitaire on him? Or Pinball? OOH…what about Minesweeper?"

Malik silenced the small Kaiba with a swift kick.

"Hey!"

"Watch it kid. I know I'm adorable, but I'm still made of metal." The doll turned to Touzoku. "And…I don't like the idea of someone digging around in my head."

"Think of it this way," the scarred man smirked, "if it traumatizes you, we can just go back and erase the event from your hard drive."

Malik whimpered in response.

"No one's erasing anything," Seto growled.

"Technical humor," Touzoku sniffed. "I promise I won't mess anything up."

"Why don't you try it out on some of those other dolls," Mokuba suggested. "At least they're already broken."

"That's just it, they're _broken_." Jounouchi replied, face deadpan.

"Yeah, but 'broken' could just mean a dead battery," the other mused. "Or a system crash. Doesn't mean I couldn't check to see if any of them still had some stored data."

"The one with jade for eyes is the oldest," Malik said smartly.

"How do you know?" Seto questioned.

"In that entry…the one that was all faded? It said 'green' and then it said 'first.' So, the one with jade eyes must have been made first."

"Yeah, but it could've said it malfunctioned first…or was shut down first…or…"

"Does it really matter which one was created first? All of them had to have been activated at one point, so they should all have the same information. This is just a test run anyway so…" Touzoku approached the cluttered pile. "Green is go."

-

It was nightfall by the time the group of men (plus one robot and one kid) managed to carry the supposed 'first model' downstairs. Moonlight crept into the house like milk poured over a wooden table, inching closer and closer to the odd cluster. It was eventually drowned out by the buzzing glow of two lamps that Seto had brought in from the truck, illuminating the strange scene with an orange light. Malik sat behind Touzoku during the set up, watching with an odd fascination as the other laid out the lifeless clone onto the empty living room floor and proceeded to plug several differently shaped wires into ports located within the cat-like ears. Its eyes were half shut, a slice of pale green visible through synthetic lashes.

"Well this is slightly unsettling." Mokuba blinked.

"It doesn't hurt, I've had it done before" Malik smiled, shooting a brief glare at the older Kaiba. "But it's…uncomfortable. Like…have you ever put a Q-Tip too far into your ear?"

"Yeah…but how would you know how that felt like?" The boy said blankly.

"Well…they're both ears, so the general concept is the same, isn't it?"

"How's it going?" Seto asked impatiently, looking over Touzoku's shoulder.

"Not so good; a lot of the files are encrypted and I can't manage to hack through. If this stuff is advanced even today, imagine how tough this must have been fifty years ago."

"Maybe if it was awake?" The brunette suggested

"Could work…the machinery's all working, it's just the battery's drained and the system is fragmented beyond repair. I could try to power it with some my laptop's battery for a few hours at most…but there's no telling what this might do to the doll or my computer."

"Well we've got four more dolls to experiment with. …What if I offer to get you a new laptop if anything happens?"

"Do I get to choose the model?"

"No."

"Good enough," the other sighed, pulling out yet another cord. "Good thing you guys have so many ports in your head; this'd be a nightmare to do if there were only four."

"Another proud achievement to add to your list," Jounouchi joked, nudging the other doll.

"I have lots of holes in my head…such accomplishments…"

Touzoku typed like lightning, rough fingers flying over the keyboard like a musician playing his instrument. The rhythmic clicks and clacks of the small buttons seemed familiar to Malik, though it was another set of 'keys' he was attached to, those of the black and white variety.

"Have you ever played the piano?" The blonde doll asked randomly.

"I've had a few lessons," was the stiff answer.

"I think you'd be good."

"…Um…" He swallowed, unsure how to reply. Luckily for him, the broken robot chose that exact moment to respond to the new battery.

"It's accepting the power."

The group watched as 'life' slowly began to pour into the still robot, causing a melody of whirring and clicks to sound as the energy coursed through empty wires like blood through veins. The delicately formed fingers began to twitch, slowly flexing and clenching as the seconds inched by. Joints moved forward and back ever so slightly, its shoulders stretched and relaxed; the once plastic complexion softened with a faint blush, restoring color to its face. Finally, its eyes opened slowly, revealing their pale beauty; glassy and blank compared to its later twin, though every bit as realistic.

During this time, Touzoku tried furiously to access the guarded files, only to be met with failure. Resisting the urge to smash his keyboard in irritation, he ultimately gave up on trying to gather any information from any of the dolls; whoever Bakura was, he knew what he was doing, and didn't want anyone else to find out how.

After a moment of vacant staring, the recently resurrected robot began to raise itself into a sitting position, its long blonde hair sweeping a haze of dust into the air. The green-eyed doll was more graceful and regal than the later model, which was clumsy and 'cute.' However, there was something notably artificial about the former. Its expression was seemed more disdainful than the other's, and it carried itself with a sort of pride that it wanted everyone to notice.

"Good evening," it said cautiously.

"So it still works," Jounouchi commented.

"Fantastic, now turn it off," the tall brunette prompted, reaching for the wires.

"Wait, you're not…" It panicked. "Who are you and why are you in this house? Where is…" Jade eyes locked with amethyst. "_Ah ha_."

"Ah ha yourself," the other doll retorted, suddenly becoming very confrontational.

"Who was Bakura?' Touzoku demanded, slapping Seto's hand away. "Your creator, where'd he go? Do you know?"

The doll looked insulted. "You're asking _me_ where Bakura went? I was shut down after he managed to disable those other machines," a scoff, "the only one who could possibly know what happened to him is _that one_."

"Malik?" Mokuba blinked.

"We're _all_ named Malik," it retorted. "You must be flawed," the green-eyed robot said suddenly, rounding on its twin. "Either that or an unplanned extra. That's the only reason sensei would've turned you on after the rest of us."

"Or he could've had special plans for me," the one with lilac eyes taunted. "You and the others seem more accustomed to collecting dust. Maids maybe?"

"Those are big words coming from a broken model."

"At least I still work without a battery!"

"How annoying…"

"So this is what happens when someone gets into an argument with himself," the young Kaiba muttered amusedly, watching the exchange. "You'd think they'd get along a little better."

"Not if they're all vying for their creator's attention," Touzoku sighed, raising an eyebrow. "And their personalities are slightly different. Maybe Bakura made one model for each trait the original Malik possessed…but that doesn't explain why he activated five simultaneously and kept one in storage."

"The Malik that I found in the attic has the same eye color as the real one," Mokuba noted. "Maybe Bakura wanted to work out the kinks before programming it, because it was the closest in appearance."

"But why waste time on five…?"

"Did you hear that? You were just a _prototype_!" One doll teased.

"Nrgh!"

"Never mind that," Touzoku snapped, "if you don't know what happened to him, can you at least tell us who he was? What kind of person was he?"

"You look a lot like him," both Maliks noted.

"Told you," the blonde human snorted.

"Other than that, he was a doctor of Japanese descent born and raised in the states. While in America, he used to frequent the Honey Milk café. He had two siblings, Amane and Ryou, a younger sister and twin brother respectively. I know nothing else," the green-eyed doll shrugged.

"Amane?" The scarred man repeated.

"That's what I said," it said dully.

"Your mother?" Seto guessed, seeing the other's distressed expression.

"Grandmother," he corrected, looking pale.

"So you _were_ related to sensei," the other doll accused. "Liar."

"I didn't know!" Touzoku insisted. "She died when I was like four; I only know the name through my dad and grandpa."

"So Bakura would've been your great uncle," the brunette concluded. "Ever hear any family stories about your grandmother's long lost brother?"

"Not exactly," he replied, bemused. "I know she had two, but no one ever elaborated beyond that."

"Must have been a total embarrassment to the family," Mokuba chuckled, earning a light whack from his brother.

"Well no one really wants to talk about their brother making creepy robots in the middle of the woods." Jounouchi added.

"Unless they never knew about us," Malik said, looking to its twin. "Sensei always wanted to stay in the house. Maybe his family thought he was dead."

"You said the last time you saw him was when he left to get something for your arm?" Seto asked.

"Yep," it nodded. "He said he was going to go into town, that's all I remember…"

"Faulty memory," the other doll scoffed.

"Can you unplug this already?"

"Well they can't seem to count on your for anything!"

The last model responded by ripping the wires from the other's head.

The light faded from green eyes as the doll fell forward heavily, blonde hair fanning out on the wooden floor.

"_Malik_!" Touzoku twitched.

"So rude…" he muttered, tossing the wires aside. "He was just as useless as I was when it came to sensei! The only thing he had that I didn't was knowledge of relatives and the _café_ he hung out at of all things."

"Well it was more than _you_ knew," Jounouchi pointed out. "Maybe that information was edited out when he programmed you, thought it made the first five have an advantage…if you know what I mean."

"I don't." It said blankly.

"In other words, the first five dolls 'knew' too much." The elder Kaiba explained "What if the original Malik didn't die of natural causes? Maybe Bakura thought he knew too much and…"

"But then he wouldn't have bothered to duplicate him so well," Touzoku argued. "Maybe he didn't know that what Malik knew would be detrimental to him."

"But if he didn't know that Malik knew stuff that'd hurt him…then…wait…" Jounouchi blinked. "How would he know what to program the other Maliks to know?"

"That's just it; Bakura didn't know that Malik knew until he made the dolls know!"

"_No_," Seto sighed irritably. "The original Malik made a point not to let Bakura know that he knew something that he shouldn't, but possibly displayed it through behaviors that Bakura didn't know indicated that he knew; so, Bakura didn't know that he made the first five dolls know what Malik wasn't supposed to know."

"This is making my head hurt," Mokuba complained, lying down on the couch. "Does it really matter who knew what?"

"It matters to _me_!" Both Malik and Touzoku said defensively. Glass eyes met steel grey in an almost hesitant manner.

"I know…that sensei most likely abandoned me here," it confessed, "but if there's even a chance that something else might have happened–!"

"You said you found a diary of his upstairs?"

"Most of the pages are either missing or illegible," Seto answered. "We were able to decipher the first few pages, but the rest were too damaged to read."

"What was the last entry?"

"It was scribbled over with a black pen," Malik sighed. "And it was on the date sensei went missing too."

"You're sure?" Touzoku asked.

"M-My memory's _not_ faulty!"

"Just making sure," the other said exasperatedly. "Alright, let's put together everything we know and try to figure this out. Bakura was a doctor in the states that used dying patients for his own financial gain, agreed?"

Everyone nodded.

"It's safe to assume that the reason he moved out to such a rural part of Japan is because he was eventually caught," he continued, typing all this into a word processor. "Of course, this part of the equation is purely speculation, but if reputable sites reported of his crimes–"

"Then word had to get out somehow," Mokuba reasoned.

"We don't know anything about the time between their arrival in Japan and Malik's death," Jounouchi added.

"But we do know that after Malik died, Bakura took around…I'd say two to three years developing the six dolls," Touzoku said, gauging the craftsmanship on the active Malik. "He activated five simultaneously; this one," he nudged the broken doll with his shoe, "was probably the first. But _something_ made all five of them malfunction, leading to their deactivation."

"Could that 'something' be the information that was edited out of this one?" the younger Kaiba asked.

"Maybe, but…I don't know it that's important in relation to what we're trying to find out _now_."

"Either way, this Malik was activated last, and was the only one who saw Bakura leave the house before he disappeared." Seto said.

"Sensei saw that my arm and leg were broken. He said he was going into town to find some parts for me, but if I knew he wasn't going to come back, then I would've told him I was just kidding," the doll mumbled in a tone that resembled guilt.

"That's where the trail runs cold…" Touzoku grimaced.

"Maybe someone in town saw him that day," Jounouchi said suddenly. "It was only fifty years ago, and there's a crapload of old folks that still live there from back then. One of them must've noticed someone with _white_ hair."

"Did they notice you?" Malik asked his creator's descendant, who blushed a light pink.

"M-Me?"

Slender fingers reached out and grasped a lock of Touzoku's platinum spikes. "Your hair is just like sensei's, it's a little shorter, but it's _so_…" There was something odd reflected in the doll's pale eyes. "As soon as I saw you, I thought that maybe he'd come back for me…but…" It laughed weakly. "Then I remembered that real people grow old…so he wouldn't look like how I remembered him. Still…" A smile. "It was a nice moment…"

There was a respectful silence afterwards, Seto and Touzoku looking to the beautiful doll with an unrestrained pity. How it seemed to shrink away whenever it acted eerily human, as if it knew an artificial creation wasn't allowed to feel such things. To think it remained faithful to Bakura after discovering what he'd done, coupled with the possibility of being callously abandoned.

'It's definitely a doll,' Touzoku thought firmly, lowering his gaze.

"So I guess we could try asking around town tomorrow," Jounouchi shrugged, breaking the silence. "It couldn't hurt, could it? We could bring this one with us," he gestured at the surprised robot. "All it really needs is a hat for the ears."

"You'd bring me?" The other blonde asked timidly.

"Why not, this all started because of you and me," Mokuba chuckled.

"I've never…"

"Left the house? Don't worry about it, neither has Touzoku," Jounouchi snickered. "Just let us crash in your car tonight Seto and we should be good to go in the morning!"

"I'm going to have the poor thing steam cleaned as soon as we get back home," the elder Kaiba muttered darkly. "I suppose you want some blankets as well?"

Malik moved to stand, excited at the prospect of seeing the world beyond the mansion walls. A tanned hand reached out hesitantly to help him up, straining slightly due to the unexpected weight. Lilac eyes met grey once again, this time in curiosity.

"Touzoku?"

"I've gotten some stares before," he admitted, folding his arms grumpily. "But I've gotten used to it."

The blonde doll giggled in response.

"And if we can't find any info in town…I think my grandpa might know a thing or two about him."

"R-Really?"

"Well…maybe. No promises."

Seto witnessed the scene with a noticeable pout.

-

Only one chapter left of the doll's story left! …Well, _this_ doll anyway. Be sure to **REVIEW**! Oh, and I need some input for my next fic (like…the one that isn't this one's prequel); I have the idea, I just need a pairing. So click on my Profile and **vote in my first ever poll!** The poll is blind, so you won't see the results until I want you to. Here's your chance to share your opinion! All of the pairings contain Malik (obviously), as he is my love and I will forever place him in uncomfortably adorable situations.

…Yes. So,

_**PLEASE **_**REVIEW**** AND ****VOTE****! **

(Also, I'm having some writer's block for _Wilted Rose_, but **IT WON'T BE ABANDONNED!** I just need to write some other stuff first…)

_**PLEASE **_**REVIEW**** AND ****VOTE****! **


	6. Truth

**Ningyo **

**Summary:** While exploring a newly inherited house, Mokuba stumbles across a life sized robotic doll in the attic. The odd, yet beautiful creation arouses Seto's interest, and the tragic love story behind the house's origin begins to unfold. [Mild YAOI]

**Rated:** T

**Genre:** Mystery

**Author's Note:** (_gasp_) This is the last chapter you guys… Aw. The sequel should be up next month…sooner if my Malik high reaches epic proportions (then again, when _doesn't_ it?) …because (un)fortunately, there's a lot of questions that won't be answered in this entry. So it kind of ends, but not really…what?

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you guys are amazing~

**I'M SORRY I WAS LATE! **

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, but I'm getting close.

-

**6 – Truth**

"Sensei…?"

Bakura looked up from his novel, seeing the last of his six dolls standing hesitantly in the doorway. As much as it resembled Malik, its disposition was nowhere near as headstrong and impulsive as the deceased blonde's. He greatly regretted having to tune down what he perceived as 'perfect programming,' however it seems that Malik's unaltered personality had proven to be destructive in large doses. Despite its imperfections, its deviations from the original, the sixth doll was undoubtedly cute in its own flawed way.

"Did you need something?"

"Um, n-no," it replied in a painfully shy tone. "But…I was thinking about this afternoon…while you were playing that song."

The former doctor leaned forward slightly, trying to stifle his excitement. Of all the replicas he had made, only the one with green eyes was capable of singing the way Malik had when he was alive. However, because of its overpowering jealousy and malevolent streak, it was the first to be shut down.

"What about it?"

"It's just…I…" A defeated sigh. "I'm sorry."

"Huh?" Bakura replied, dumbfounded. The real Malik would have never apologized for _nothing_, and in such a pathetic manner too. "Sorry for what?"

"When you were playing the piano earlier, you kept looking to me throughout the piece, like you were waiting for me to do something."

"Oh…" Was he _that_ obvious? He had only been with this particular model for three days, but what it lacked in confidence, it made up for in perceptiveness. "I just wanted to see if you were enjoying it is all."

"I _was_, but…" It looked distressed. "But I had the feeling that…because I didn't know what to do, you were disappointed…"

'I was,' the human mentally admitted.

The doll looked up, glassy lilac eyes devoid of tears. "It's just…I want to make you happy…"

Bakura flinched, mind racing back to the argument he had with the first doll not one week ago, the night before absolute chaos broke out within the mansion.

…

"_The only purpose you have is to please me," Bakura snarled, rounding on the artificial being. "Just make me happy! I don't give a damn about what you want!"_

"_And I couldn't care less about you!" It screamed back, earning surprised gasps from the other four. "You think that just because you made me you can force me to do whatever you want? If that's what you were expecting, then you shouldn't have bothered to make me into Malik!"_

"_The real Malik was–!"_

"_The real Malik didn't give a flying fuck about you _my dear sensei_," the green-eyed doll cooed sweetly. "You don't know what I know; you have no idea of the memories I have in my database. You blindly programmed us to be _just like_ Malik. Well guess what?" A cruel smirk. "You didn't know the REAL Malik."_

"_He loved me." Bakura stated firmly, jaw clenched. "That's all I have to know."_

"_Did he ever say that? Did he use the word love?" It scoffed. "_I_ love you sensei…but only because you programmed me to love you. If I were real…if I were the real Malik…" A dark chuckle. "Well, I guess you'll never know, will you?"_

…

"That's what you want me to do, isn't it?"

"No, it's not…" Bakura mumbled more to himself than the timid doll.

"Sensei?"

"That's not your purpose," he said a little more forcefully than intended. "You don't owe _me_ anything."

"But…but I _want_ to."

'No you don't,' the doctor thought bitterly. 'You only want to because I wanted you to want to…ugh, that just made my head hurt.'

"Just, don't think about it, okay?" He responded in the most pleasant tone he could muster. "What's done is done, there's no point in stressing over it."

"S-Sorry," it sighed, bowing clumsily. A mannerism inherited directly from Malik himself.

"Don't apologize," Bakura growled, irritation evident in his voice. "I told you, I'm not mad."

"Well you're mad now…" the doll said quietly.

"I'm just frustrated that you're so hung up about this."

"But I don't want you to be frustrated!"

"Well then I'll feel whatever you want me to, just stop being so gloomy!"

"I already told you that I wanted you to be happy…"

"And _I_ already told _you_ that that shouldn't be your main concern."

"But I can't stop _making_ it my concern," the doll argued. "Why are you so afraid that what I feel for you might actually be genuine?"

"Because it's _not_!" Bakura snapped, rising from the couch. "You _can't_ feel anything genuine because you're just a doll! Everything you 'feel' is just something I programmed into a chip!"

"If you really believed that, then why did you bother making me?"

"Because...I…" He was lost for words. Why did he bother activating the last model? He knew that by altering its personality, he'd never find how Malik truly felt about him. Resentment or empathy? Bitterness or forgiveness? Hate or love? He'd never know, and still, he felt the need to turn on the last doll.

_Why_?

"My emotions may just be a fabrication…but to _me_ they're real. And if you can't accept that," lilac eyes blazed in agony, "then please, just shut me down!"

"What did you say?" Bakura gaped, mouth dry.

"Shut me down," it repeated, tone dead serious. "I don't want to be a burden to you…your happiness is all that I care about sensei. I know you don't believe me…maybe I shouldn't believe me either, but…" A soft smile. "If it'll make us both feel better, then why not?"

"It'd make you feel better?"

"Um…well…I guess if I'm turned off I won't be able to feel anything," the blonde said thoughtfully. "But it'd make _you_ feel better, so then…if I _were_ active, then it'd make me feel better...so it all works out."

Dark eyes gazed into tinted glass for a long time. No matter how hard he searched, those lilac orbs would never hold the same haunted light that Malik's had held. Whatever had given the headstrong blonde such pained eyes remained a mystery, another question left unanswered upon his untimely death. That innocent, yet tainted demeanor that caused Ryou to fear for his twin's safety…

He had never known the real Malik. And he was wasting his energy trying to pry it from the blank eyes of his last replica. That much was true. The former doctor got to his feet and walked to his creation, a look of apprehension on his face. The doll smiled again, repeating Malik's distinctive bow.

"It's okay, I'm not sad. No regrets, right?"

'No regrets,' Bakura mentally repeated, the painful memory of he and Malik's very first meeting resurfacing. Slowly, he pressed a small button on the doll's ear, fingers trembling as they reached for the main wire.

The robot closed its eyes, enjoying the touch of its creator's hand on its shoulder. It felt so nice...better than the sunlight he had bathed in earlier that day. For a brief moment, it wondered if getting deactivated was the same as a human dying. The thought was chased away almost immediately, as it realized that people could not be 'turned back on' so to speak.

A sigh. This was taking longer than the doll had anticipated. Maybe Bakura had already pulled the cord and it just took a little longer for the thought process to shut down completely. Suddenly, a soft pressure was placed on the doll's face. Unfamiliar with the new sensation, the doll opened its glass eyes hesitantly, genuinely surprised that they still worked.

It was pressed gently against the creator's chest, metal ear closed shut. Bakura's pale arms were wrapped around the doll's shoulders, pulling it tighter and tighter with every breath, as if he were afraid to let go. An odd noise came from the human's lips, but the doll didn't bother trying to understand what they meant, instantly realizing that it had, somehow, made its beloved sensei happy again. Satisfied with this accomplishment, the svelte robot relaxed into the man's embrace, eyes closing in contentment.

It wasn't until October 4 of the next year that the doll realized how much that night had meant.

-

Jounouchi smashed his boot against the brick wall he was leaning on, dislodging a few good pints of dirt.

"Well that expedition was a nice way to waste a morning," he said irritably, placing his foot back. "No one knew _anything_!"

The group of four stood tiredly (or confusedly in Malik's case) by Seto's now battered car, waiting for the brunette to locate the keys in one of his many pockets. They had woken up at six, figuring seniors liked to go about their business before anyone from the younger generations appeared to make them uncomfortable. As Malik was wearing nothing more than a fashioned rag at that point, they had sent Jounouchi home to scrounge up some clothes, and he returned with a light jacket from his own wardrobe as well as a pair of jeans from his younger sister. Since the doll had no 'bulge' to speak of ("I told you it wasn't meant for sex," Touzoku smirked), the pants slipped on without much of a hassle. The only problem they had was disguising Malik's ears without making it too obvious. A remedy was found in the form of a tastefully placed winter hat and a careful arrangement of the doll's long hair.

Looking strangely flushed, Touzoku lent Malik a wool scarf, claiming it would help him look better dressed for autumn. He had also advised the blonde not to speak unless necessary; though the doll's voice wasn't obviously robotic, it still sounded slightly artificial.

They had spent three hours going to known senior hangouts, questioning them about memorable events that occurred around the time of Bakura's disappearance, having claimed to need the information for a class project. There wasn't anyone that had anything particularly useful to say, much to the frustration of Jounouchi, who had to sit through long stories about the time someone had eaten their first hot dog.

"Well at least we tried," Mokuba frowned, hopping into the passenger seat as soon as his brother unlocked the car doors.

"It seems almost everyone in town was born somewhere else," Touzoku sighed, allowing the doll to enter before he stepped in. "Apparently you and I are a dying breed Jounouchi."

"Guess so," the taller blonde agreed, sitting on Malik's opposite side. "So, next stop is your house, right?"

"I know for a fact my grandpa lived here around that time, whether or not he remembers any of it is a totally different story."

"Do you plan to just yell directions at me or will you switch places with Mokuba?" Seto said dully, looking over his shoulder.

"Yelling is fine," Touzoku answered coolly.

"You can't miss it anyway," Jounouchi smirked. "It's a really old, really ugly house with a band of stray cats on the front step."

"_Those_ are my mother's!"

"I know you have a few…"

"Cats are those little furry things with pointed ears that scratch you, right?" Malik asked suddenly.

"You don't know what a cat is?" Mokuba said, face deadpan.

"Well I've never been outside…" the doll mumbled.

"Cats are horrible smelly pieces of crap that multiply like mad and claw up everything you own," Jounouchi growled.

"Bad experience?" Seto asked, amused.

"My sister loves them." The tall blonde responded.

"Turn left," Touzoku commanded, causing the brunette to make an unnecessarily sharp turn. "Go straight down the road until you see an old shrine and then go up the hill; my house is the fourth on the right," he continued as Jounouchi heaved the stunned doll off his lap.

"Mokuba, I want you to take note of this experience. Some people in this world just aren't as hard working or educated as your big brother, and they end up as shut-ins, living in second-rate houses in neighborhoods inhabited by crusty old men. This is why I want you to stay in school."

"Got it," the younger Kaiba nodded.

"Talking like we're not even in the car," Touzoku sighed.

"Bet he was beat up a lot in primary school," Jounouchi muttered.

"The trees get _really_ red in autumn, huh?" Malik said in amazement, watching every maple that passed the windows.

"They're the only reason I can find to go outside," Touzoku admitted sheepishly. "They're only like this for a few weeks, but it's always a great show."

"I've only seen the maple trees planted outside the house," the doll replied, still looking out, "and they never get as red as these do. They're more…pinkish?"

"There's an old tree like that near town," the tanned human remembered. "It's really weird because it's the only one that isn't completely red." A thoughtful look. "Maybe Bakura planted it there."

"More like he stole the seeds off it," Jounouchi interrupted. "That tree is _old_. Like _ancient_ old. The trees around the house aren't as tall."

"Well that's true…"

"Are we there yet? Touzoku's unsubtle flirting is making my head itch!" Mokuba complained.

"That's probably from huge spider that laid eggs in your hair after you left the attic," Malik said innocently.

The rest of the ride was riddled with frantic screams of terror and uncontrolled laughter.

-

"_There you are_!" Mana growled in exasperation, pulling her son into the house. "Do you have any idea how worried I was last night? If your father were still here he would've beat you over your head with a club! I called every single internet café and night club within a five mile radius–"

"_Mooooooooom_…" Touzoku whined, noticing the odd looks from Malik and Seto.

"–and you weren't in any of them! How was I supposed to know you hadn't been kidnapped by that crazy man down the street who likes to collect oranges?"

"Well as you didn't bother to physically leave the house and look for me, I suppose you must have found _some_ way to fall asleep last night," the other sneered. "Where's Grandpa?"

"You mean you're not going to introduce me to your new friends?" the short woman chided. "It's so nice to see him bring home living things; I'd gotten so used to bags of wires and plastic! I'm Mana by the way, Touzoku's mommy!"

"His _mommy_?" Mokuba snickered, earning a deadly glare.

"That little annoying one is Mokuba, the giant moody guy is his brother Seto, and the one with the scarf is…Namu," Touzoku said quickly, pointing each one out. "And you know Jounouchi already."

"Hey," he waved.

"Isn't that _your_ scarf Namu's wearing?" Mana whispered, a knowing glint in her pale blue eyes. "Nice catch Touzoku!"

"MOM."

"Sorry to barge in like this so unexpectedly," Seto cut in, tired of the exchange. "I'm a journalist visiting from Domino City, and I was wondering if it was possible to interview your father Missus Ibara."

"Regarding?"

"A special report covering the history of the town just down the hill," the brunette continued to lie, obviously trying to charm his way to a 'yes'. "We met your son yesterday while exploring, he offered his services and has been showing us around since yesterday afternoon."

"Well that was awfully nice of him," she smiled. "Do you always bring such a large entourage with you?"

"My brother isn't one to stay and home, and Namu is one of my students," Seto motioned towards Malik, who was startled out of boredom. "Not one for conversation, but very good company on my business trips."

"Not one for conversation? No wonder my son took a liking to him," Mana chuckled, ignoring Touzoku's protests. "I'm going to fetch my dad from out back, in the meanwhile, why don't you all help yourself to some tea and snacks in the kitchen? I'll be right back."

"Don't say _anything_," Touzoku commanded as soon as he heard the back door slam shut.

"You're lucky his mom's so trusting. Anyone else would've realized journalists don't lug their 'students' and younger siblings around everywhere." Jounouchi scoffed.

"Hold your tongue," Seto growled.

"Did you want your scarf back?" Malik asked innocently.

"N-No, it's," Touzoku blushed. "Keep it alright? Oh…just a little warning before you all actually meet him; Grandpa's _kind of_ an asshole."

"Well that was blunt," Seto blinked.

"He threw me out of the house one time for breathing too loud," Jounouchi recalled, a frown upon his face. "Then again for blinking too much…"

"Maybe he just doesn't like you," Mokuba offered.

"That might be it," the blonde pouted.

"You're going to have to come up with a more convincing story, because flying all the way here from Domino City just for an editorial piece on the town is stupid." Touzoku snorted.

"So I suppose I should just come out and say a robotic doll wanted us to find out what happened to the con-artist who built it sixty years ago," Seto drawled.

"Couldn't hurt."

A few minutes of rude remarks and childish bickering passed before Mana returned to the house with her father trailing behind. She looked slightly annoyed, but managed to keep an optimistic smile on her face, energetically kicking away piles of clothes and old newspaper so the old man wouldn't have to step over them.

Her father, though aged, still had a regal air to him; though he used a cane, he walked with confidence and pride, similar to the jade-eyed doll. Once dark hair was now a grayish silver, wrinkles were carved deeply onto dark skin. His dark blue eyes seemed very alert, and almost immediately upon entering the room, they focused on the disguised doll.

"Sorry I took so long," she panted, straightening her skirt, "took me a while to find him!"

"Thank you," Seto nodded.

"Would you like to stay for dinner? I was just about to step out to buy some ingredients for a stew!"

"Uh…" the brunette hesitated.

"Mom, he's busy," Touzoku said quickly, saving the other from having to come up with yet another lie.

"Oh, well that's too bad." She said disappointedly, throwing on a red scarf. "I'll see you soon then."

Mana waved goodbye before exiting the house. Seto instinctively walked towards her father, pale hand extended in a warm gesture.

"Thank you for joining us today, my name is Seto Kaiba."

Mokuba grimaced. He wasn't used to his brother being so nice. It was mildly disturbing.

"Mana said something about an interview?" the elderly man muttered, long hair hanging limply in a thin ponytail. He ignored the hand rather callously, causing Touzoku to whisper hasty apologies in embarrassment.

"Uh…yes, we were wondering if it was possible to ask you a few questions Mister…?"

"My name is Mahaado," he said dismissively, lowering himself into a rocking chair. "Mahaado Inanna."

"Mister Inanna," Seto began, taking a seat on the sinking couch, "I was wondering if you remembered anything that happened in town on October 4, 2032. The Domino Tribune is doing a special on–"

"Obscure dates from decades years ago?" A dry chuckle. "What's so special about that day? There are more important dates to remember; the bombing of 2041, the total capture of western Kyoto in 2050…this town was peaceful before the wars began…and _that's_ the time period you're interested in?"

"I–"

"You said your name was Kaiba? Isn't that the same as the weapon manufacturer from back then?" A curious stare.

"I…was _adopted_," Seto said slowly, blue eyes narrowing. Jounouchi winced; obviously a touchy subject to bring up. "But this isn't about me Mister Inanna. If you could please answer the question…?"

"October 4, 2032…" the man repeated, licking dry lips. "Hm. Well I know I was a lot younger then."

"Obviously," Touzoku sighed.

"My wife and I had only lived in this area for a few weeks, but it was a pleasant place. Everyone was so friendly and hospitable despite our odd appearance. You'd almost think they'd seen a couple like us before…"

Jounouchi briefly glanced at the doll, which remained still.

"Now let's see…October is when the maples start changing color, so my wife and I had probably gone on a walk that day to look at them. Hmm…what else…?" Dark blue eyes widened slightly. "Oh, that's right…"

"Yes?" Seto asked impatiently.

"Someone was killed that day."

Malik opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly interrupted by Touzoku.

"You say that so calmly!"

"Well it _was_ a long time ago,' Mahaado shrugged. "And from what I heard, the victim was a wanted criminal, so it couldn't have been all bad…"

"Do you remember his name?" the brunette pressed.

"Bakura Kagami," the old man recited, with a tinge of bitterness. "He was shot just outside of town, next to the old maple tree…"

…

"_When I die," Malik announced, pressing a finger on Bakura's nose. "I want to be buried underneath _this_ tree."_

_The doctor looked at the creaking maple, a frown forming on his face. "But it's…it's not even completely red!"_

"_Yeah, but at least you'll know where it is," the blonde said simply. "So then you can bring me flowers every day. Purple ones of course, maybe yellow…"_

"_You seem so sure that you'll be the first to go."_

"_Well, if you die first, then I'll be sure to die wherever you want to end up."_

"_Huh?"_

"_So we'll be together again," Malik smiled. "But don't worry; that won't happen for a long time."_

"_Then why are you bringing it up now…?" Bakura asked quietly. _

_The blonde thought for a minute, twirling one of the fallen leaves between his fingers. _

"…_I'm not sure."_

…

"Did…you know anything about Bakura Kagami?" Seto asked.

"Not enough to write a paper about," Mahaado said suspiciously.

"Touzoku tells us Kagami was the maiden name of his grandmother. Your wife?"

The old man's frown deepened. "There are several people with the family name Kagami."

"How many of them had twin brothers by the name of Bakura and Ryou?" The brunette questioned, not missing a beat. "You knew Bakura Kagami prior to this incident, didn't you? Unless you married your wife without bothering to meet her family…"

"Who are you people? What do you want from me? And why is…" Dark eyes stared deeply into lilac. "Why does he…?"

"Mister Inanna, you're being very jumpy about this, the average person might think you had something to hide." A cruel smile. "Please tell us all you can about the life and death of Bakura Kagami."

"No," Mahaado stated firmly, eyes still trained on the timid doll. "Not until you tell me what this is all about!"

"An article," Seto spat, "just tell us!"

"I don't believe you! The personal life on an old man isn't worth anything; I haven't done anything important enough to write about! Why do you want to know about my relation to Bakura Kagami? He's a forgotten criminal and he deserved everything he got!"

"Grandpa, finding out that I'm the descendant (and apparently a dead ringer) of an American con-artist through _some guy_ I met yesterday was hard enough to swallow," Touzoku snapped. "Stop being a drama queen and tell us about him!"

"But–"

"_Grandpa_…" he pleaded.

Mahaado breathed in deeply, exhaling through his nose. Remembering this event was obviously very difficult, both mentally and emotionally. He was old, his memory was worn, but his heart was still gripped with whatever had happened to make him loathe the name Bakura Kagami. He shot another suspicious glance toward Malik before clasping his hands and closing his eyes, deep in thought.

"…Over sixty years ago, my younger brother was killed after doing business with a local gang. I advised against it, but he wasn't the kind of man who listened to reason. Within a few months, it became more and more difficult for him to deliver on his end of the bargain. He was dealt with in a rather cruel manner, as is the norm when dealing with criminal organizations. For weeks, I wracked my brain over why he would risk his life for money that we didn't need. We lived in a middle class area, our lifestyle wasn't extravagant, but we most certainly weren't poor by any standard. And then," his dark blue eyes met the doll's lilac once again, a sad smile on his lips, "and then Malik Ishtar paid me a visit."

…

"_Mahaado, I…!"_

"_Malik!" he gasped, catching the distressed blonde, as he was about to collapse from exhaustion. He could feel the svelte frame shaking uncontrollably. "What are you…the funeral isn't until–"_

"_I…I know who did it," Malik sobbed, burying his head into man's chest. "I know…I know who killed him…"_

"_What do you…?"_

_And that's when he noticed the dried blood clinging to the boy's bangs._

…

"You knew the…" Jounouchi began, only to be cut off by Seto.

"What does this have to do with Bakura Kagami?" The brunette asked coldly.

"Why don't you tell me?" the old man responded, gaze still fixed on the artificial human. "Tell me why 'Namu' looks _exactly_ like the young man my brother lost his life for?"

"You're _senile_," Seto lied smoothly, blocking Malik from view. "If they were the same person, he'd be as shriveled and useless as you are."

"Why are you so determined to find out about that doctor?" Mahaado pressed, directing the question to everyone. "Bakura Kagami was a criminal who deserved what he got, if not by law enforcement, then by someone who was deeply affected by his selfish actions."

"You wouldn't happen to know the name of this 'someone,' would you Grandpa?" Touzoku asked accusingly.

"Maybe, maybe not."

"That's not an answer!" The grandson snapped. "You've been keeping this a secret from everybody in the family! If grandma had known you knew the name of her brother's murderer–! "

"What makes you so sure grandma didn't know as well? Do you honestly think that it was pure _chance_ that we chose to move here?"

Touzoku froze, trying to unweave the tangled riddle the old man spoke.

"So you both knew," Seto said slowly.

"Your grandma couldn't escape the shame Bakura had brought upon her family," Mahaado continued bitterly. "White hair and dark eyes aren't exactly easy to hide, and any family that wasn't out for blood was after money; shortly after Bakura had run away, his twin brother gave away everything they had out of guilt." He closed his eyes. "But it still wasn't enough. If I hadn't come in to save them, then…" A throaty cough. "All the lives Bakura destroyed…countless patients, their families, my brother, his own _blood_… Believe me, his death isn't a loss to anyone."

Seto tightened his grip on the doll's shoulder. "Justified or not, murder is murder."

"And…?"

"And being so close to the grave yourself, don't you think it would be appropriate for you to atone for your sins?"

A dry smile. "You think _I_ killed Bakura Kagami?"

"You haven't given me a reason to believe otherwise," the brunette said coldly.

"If it comforts you to believe that, go ahead," Mahaado sighed, leaning back into his rocking chair. "…Do you know what they found next to Bakura's body by any chance?"

"Uh…blood?" Mokuba guessed, looking as confused as everyone else in the room. There was a stunned silence that following the question, with Touzoku exchanging clueless glances with Jounouchi and Seto just looking pissed off altogether.

"Hardware," Malik answered quietly, eyes downcast. All attention was suddenly drawn to the doll. "They found hardware…didn't they?"

"Ma…Namu, _what_ are you…?" Jounouchi mumbled urgently.

"So it _is_ true," the old man muttered. "All those rumors about Bakura being unable to let go of that poor boy…" He lowered his glasses. "You're one of his dolls, aren't you?"

"You know about them?" Seto gasped, eyes wide.

"It was reported that Bakura had screamed something about leaving his dolls alone just before he passed away. Everyone had always assumed he had gone mad all those years in the wilderness, and was referring to an old China Doll collection. However, Amane remembered that her brother often created small robotic toys for her to play with as a child. Until this day. I had no idea what that man had created…and now I see it sitting right in front of me. It's fascinating…what a little insanity and a lot of time can produce."

"It's name is Malik," Touzoku said.

"Yes," Mahaado nodded. "I thought so. It seems Bakura never figured it out then."

"Figured what out?" the doll asked. "Was there something wrong with Malik Ishtar?"

"There was nothing wrong with _him_, but Bakura seemed to take a lot of liberty while programming you. The reason you came to this place wasn't for a newspaper, but simply to find out what had happened to your lost creator, correct?"

"Y-Yes."

"And when you found out that my grandson was somehow related to Bakura, you wanted to know more."

"Yes."

"And why did you go to such lengths to do this?" the old man whispered. "Why do you care about your creator?"

"Because I–"

"Love him?"

Malik trembled at the sound of the words he had wanted to say for so long. Touzoku rested a strong hand on his shoulder, giving him a brief, but reassuring smile. His eyes…they were so similar to Bakura's…

"…Yes." The doll said finally, closing his own. "That's why. That's what I was programmed to feel and I have no reason to resist."

"Yes, but you see," Mahaado said somewhat sadly, "that's where you and the _real_ Malik are different."

-

_**To Be Continued In Ningen…**_

Thanks for reading, and don't forget to leave a review!


	7. Bonus: Sweet Citron

**Ningyo**

**Summary: **While exploring a newly inherited house, Mokuba stumbles across a life sized robotic doll in the attic. The odd, yet beautiful creation arouses Seto's interest, and the tragic love story behind the house's origin begins to unfold.

**Rated:** T

**Genre: **Mystery

**Author's Note:** A lot of reviews and PMs for both _Ningen_ and _Ningyo_ have mentioned wanting to see more with Touzoku and Malik (the doll), so…here you go! See? I do listen to your feedback!

This chapter is purely for fluff reasons and does not affect the plot of either story in any way. Happy 2010!

**Disclaimer:** Yuugiou and all related characters belong to Kazuki Takahashi.

-

**Bonus Chapter – Sweet Citron **

-

Seto closed his phone with a snap, entering the living room where Touzoku, Jounouchi, and the doll, Malik, were currently playing an old trading card game called Duel Monsters. He had found a wooden box containing the cards while he was cleaning out the attic; being the game fanatic that he was, he decided not to throw them away, keeping them as 'mementos'.

"You activated my trap Touzoku!" Jounouchi smirked, turning over one of his cards after performing an overblown pose. "Say hello to Trap Hole! It lets me summon a monster of level 4 and above onto the field at the expense of 1000 Life Points!"

"Are you sure that's what it does?" The other blonde said skeptically. "It doesn't sound right…"

"Well the description text's faded away, so I'm really just making this up as I go along," he admitted.

"As am I," Touzoku sighed, fanning himself with his current hand. "This game sure is _fun_."

"Excuse me Club Cynical, but I just got a call from my little brother; I have to go pick him up from the movie theatre. Jounouchi, I need you to come with me; you said you'd cook dinner tonight, correct?"

"Definitely," he agreed.

"Should I come with you?" Malik asked in concern, moving to stand.

"No, no, no," Seto insisted. "We'll be fine by ourselves. You and Touzoku should just…stay here and dust the cabinets."

"But there isn't any–" the doll began, only to have a pale finger press against its cold lips.

"If anyone asks, that's an order. Alright?"

"U-Um, okay…"

A rush of heat rose to tinge Touzoku's tanned cheeks a very faint shade of pink; his steel grey eyes darted from the blondes to the brunette and back, his mouth slightly open. He'd never been alone with Malik before, ever. It wasn't that he was afraid that the attractive robot might blow a fuse and start shooting lasers from its eyes (though that would've be cool…), rather that he felt very awkward being around it for too long. If he really _did_ carry a similar appearance to his deceased great uncle, then he supposed his mere presence put a tremendous strain on the doll's circuits as well. It was like…telling a computer not to perform an action it was made specifically for.

"You look like a fish," Seto remarked, lip curling.

"Wh-What's happening here?" Touzoku breathed, well aware that all eyes (real or otherwise) were now on him.

"There isn't enough room for all of us in my new car, not with all the stuff I still have in the backseat; Jounouchi and I will pick Mokuba up, buy some food, and be back home in time for dinner." He raised an eyebrow. "What's the matter? You aren't scared of Malik are you?"

Said doll looked at Touzoku expectantly, slightly offended.

"Of course not!" The scarred male responded. "It's…just…why can't Jounouchi stay too?"

"Because it's _my_ recipe we're shopping for," the blonde said proudly, thumping a fist to his chest. "The Jounouchi Family's infamous kimchi loaded daikon!"

"There are only two ingredients in that…"

"That's what you think," he snorted. "Anyway, we're wasting daylight! Come on, before Mokuba gets picked up by some other grumpy old man!"

"Pedophile references, how quaint," Seto sighed, grabbing his jacket. "Take care of the house Malik." A smirk. "See you later Touzoku."

"Y-Yeah," he laughed nervously, trying to turn his attention back to the card game in front of him. "L-Later."

Jounouchi and the elder Kaiba exchanged knowing glances before exiting the house, the door closing with a melodious chime.

Touzoku cracked his knuckles, an awful mannerism that he had picked up from his grandfather. At the moment, he was mentally strangling himself for being so self conscious around Malik. Why did he even care about what a _machine_ of all things thought of him? He didn't even see Malik on a regular basis; he only ever visited the Kaiba brothers while tagging along with Jounouchi, and even that was a rare event in itself.

Still, he couldn't help but feel judged; he just _knew_ the doll was comparing him to its creator. He hadn't even known Bakura _existed_ up until a few weeks ago, and yet he had still managed to make Touzoku's life even more complicated and convoluted than it already was.

Shaking his head in frustration, Bakura's hapless descendant concentrated on the worn pieces of cardboard that lay at his knees, determined to make the most of his afternoon.

"Okay," he said as enthusiastically as he could. "Let's finish this, huh?"

"Don't want to," the doll stated simply, throwing its cards onto the floor.

"Have you already figured out a way to beat me?"

"No," Malik shook his head. "I just think this game is super boring."

A smile found its way onto Touzoku's face.

"Same here." He threw his own hand into the disheveled heap.

The doll giggled quietly, its body still held in a familiar position; timid, yet somewhat guarded.

"We have a few hours to kill," it reminded him, beginning to stack the cards into a sort of castle. "What would you like to do?"

"I don't know…what else is there to do around here? Besides watching television I mean."

"Not much," Malik sighed, knocking the structure over with a light poke. "Seto took away all the interesting things, so all that's left is a bunch of boring kitchen appliances. I don't even know what half of these things do…"

"Yeah, sixty years is a pretty big gap," Touzoku agreed, looking sympathetic. "Um…"

"Oh! There are still some old books upstairs, if you're interested. I hid them under the floorboards while Seto was redecorating the space upstairs."

"What kind of books did you keep?"

"Mostly stuff that sensei had liked," it mumbled, tracing an unknown pattern onto the new floor. He didn't really like how much the house had changed; it was like being transplanted into an entirely different country and being expected to know the culture language. Uncomfortable _and_ impossible. "But there are a few that I'd kept because I didn't understand them."

"In what way?" Touzoku asked. "Like, the language or…?"

"The subject matter," Malik clarified, lilac eyes locking with grey. "There were some that talked about stuff I've never heard of before. I'd kept them because I was hoping Seto would be able to explain them to me when he wasn't too busy. Although, it doesn't feel right having to ask a human for clarification. No offense," it smiled sheepishly. "But I really want to know."

"Well… we humans have depended a lot on machines within the past century, so I guess it wouldn't hurt to return the favor."

"You mean you'll tell me?"

"I'll try…it depends on how complicated they are."

"I'm sure you'll do great!" The doll nodded encouragingly, getting to its feet. "I'm going to go get some, okay? Wait right here, don't move!" A pause. "Well, I guess you could move if you wanted to, it's not like I'd know or anything… Uh…nevermind. J-Just wait!"

"Alright," Touzoku chuckled, watching the blonde run up the stairs excitedly, hat slightly askew. Malik had taken a very strong liking to hats after being forced to wear one when visiting the town, and would wore them almost religiously.

As the sounds of rummaging drifted down from the upper level, the tech junkie felt his heart trying to force its way into his throat. He was relived that things were going as smoothly as they were; despite knowing that Malik wasn't exactly flesh and blood, talking to the easygoing robot felt as natural as talking to anyone else. It was also very interesting to discover that contrary to his former theories, computers really _didn't_ have the answer to everything. He only hoped that whatever questions Malik had were within his realm of knowledge; if not…well, lying wasn't completely out of the question.

Touzoku brought an unsteady hand up to his chest and pinched himself, hard. He wasn't used to feeling so unsure about himself; after all, he was the 'go to' guy for almost everything. He was the student you wanted to cheat off of, the friend you called when your music player wouldn't come off repeat…the online encyclopedia you logged onto when you wanted to fudge a report.

Scratching the scar underneath his eye, the young man suddenly frowned, his brow furrowing. He had always been fascinated by cutting edge inventions, his hands constantly itching to touch and inspect any new piece of technology. By modern standards, the science put into Malik was old, outdated…and yet he couldn't exactly figure out how Bakura had programmed it so well. The humanlike expressions and emotions were unnervingly realistic, and it was difficult for Touzoku to accept that he had come across something that he couldn't explain, something he didn't hold all the answers to.

The uncomfortable feeling he felt below the belt whenever Malik smiled or giggled didn't help matters at _all_.

Said doll suddenly appeared at the foot of the stairs, a small stack of books in its arms. Much to Touzoku's surprise, they _weren't_ ridiculously thick texts on the molecular theory. As Malik carefully laid his treasures onto the floor, the human couldn't help but blush.

They were children's picture books.

'Impossible!' he thought, right eye beginning to twitch. 'It's impossible for anything to be this naïve! This innocent! This…THIS _CUTE_!'

"Sorry I took so long," the blonde said apologetically, bowing its head. "I didn't want to ask you too many questions at once, so I only brought down the ones I was completely confused about."

Touzoku was still reeling from his unexpected dose of super adorable.

"Um…hello?"

'C-C-C-Cute…too…cute…'

"Touzoku?"

"Huh?" He blinked, seeing Malik staring at him with a mixture of concern and shock.

"Are…you having a seizure?"

"What? No!"

"Well you were kind of spazzing for a moment there," the robot pointed out, face deadpan. "Were these too hard for you? I can go back up and get something el–"

"No, it's not that," Touzoku blushed, fighting to keep a straight face. "It's just…these are _kid's_ books Malik. The way you talked about these things, I half expected you to bring down the Encyclopedia of Philosophy or something."

"But…that's stuff's easy."

"I-It is?"

"Of course! This stuff though…you really expect _kids_ to understand them? I mean, there aren't even enough words to explain what's going on in the story!" Malik looked rather distressed as he picked up a colorful copy of 'The Three Little Pigs.' "It isn't physically possible for swine to build a house of _anything_, much less brick! And wolves don't have the lung capacity to exhale like _that_!"

Touzoku suddenly realized the poor doll's problem; it was reading fables the same way one would read a newspaper, taking the words and pictures as fact. He felt somewhat sorry for Malik, as he knew that being able to separate fairy tales from fact was going to be a difficult process; again, it was like restricting a program from performing a process it needed to do in order to carry out an order. The blonde couldn't 'read' without comparing the material to what it knew to be true.

"The other books upstairs talk about stuff that's just as impossible, but at least they try their best to explain why they believe such things," Malik continued, flipping to a picture where the wolf was falling into a boiling cauldron. "But these are just…"

'The other books must be fiction novels,' Touzoku noted, moving to sit behind the puzzled robot.

"What exactly do you want me to explain?" He began, deciding to take this one step at a time.

"Why are there only five words per page?"

"Because…well, because humans can't read very well when they're young, so the people that write stories like this try to use pictures and colors to help them understand."

"But…none of this is true," Malik insisted, lilac eyes scanning the pages in desperation. "Why would you want to teach your younger generations that pigs can do things they obviously can't?"

"Well all of these are just fairy tales," Touzoku explained, gesturing to the other books. "They're not meant to be taken as absolute fact. People write these (_re_write them in most cases) because want kids to have fun with them…broaden their imaginations and stuff."

"How do you learn through lies?"

"They're not lies; the kids know that these things aren't true."

"How do you know?"

Touzoku took a short moment before he answered.

"We…don't."

"Sorry?" Malik blinked, eyes wide.

"It's kind of hard to explain…"

"Try me," the doll challenged.

"Well…see…" Touzoku let out a frustrated sigh. This was proving to be a lot harder than he originally thought it would be. Things like science and math could be taught; they were simply a set of methods and theories that were to be memorized. But ideas like art and expression and creativity…how do you _teach_ those things?

"Okay, I think I got it," he said confidently. "Before you were you, you were just an _idea_. From that idea, Bakura used what he knew about machines and computers to build your frame and program your chips and everything else. Do you follow?"

"So far, yes…" Malik said slowly.

"Right, but see, all that knowledge he had about how to build things would have been useless without the idea. If you don't have the creativity and imagination to think of something utterly amazing (like yourself), then you can't do _anything_. The reason parents read these 'lies' to their kids is to help build that sense of imagination; yeah, okay, pigs can't build things, you're right. But what if they could? Plus, these fairy tales usually come with their own little messages. You've read this one, right? Do you remember what the first two pigs did?"

"Each of the pigs built their own houses out of whatever material they wanted to, even though the oldest pig advised them to use bricks. The first two didn't listen, and ultimately…" The doll looked up, as if it had suddenly understood. "Oh! So it's like a life lesson? While you're encouraging creativity, you're also instilling some common sense, huh Touzoku?"

"Something like that," he shrugged. "But with kids, you can't get anything important across unless something graphic happens; that usually translates to cute animals being eaten for being stupid." He picked up the other three. "All of these have kind of the same idea with the imagination stuff, except with slightly different morals." He smiled sympathetically at the blonde, who looked at the pages with a newfound respect. "Did that help any?"

"Vastly," Malik nodded.

'Well, that killed some time…' Touzoku mused, mentally congratulating himself. Maybe teaching Malik a thing or two about more abstract concepts wasn't so challenging after all; it was just like installing a new piece of software. At least, that's what he would keep telling himself.

"Um…"

"Yeah?"

"There's one more book though…it has an illustration that I _really_ don't get." The blonde looked rather embarrassed. "Could you help me understand that one too?"

"Fire away," Touzoku smirked, expecting to be presented with a cat wearing boots.

"Oh good!" Malik brought out a fifth book from behind his back, already turned to the page he had talked about. "What are they doing?"

Virtually all color drained from Touzoku's face.

The picture that the doll was referring to was the ending page in an old copy of 'Sleeping Beauty'; the infamous kissing scene.

"You don't know what that is?" He asked dully, eyes refusing to leave the image. How the hell was he supposed to explain _this_?

"Not a clue," Malik blinked.

"You never…you and Bakura never did this?"

"No…were we supposed to?"

Touzoku swallowed, his mouth feeling very dry. There was no way this doll didn't know what a kiss was; with a creator as obsessive and lustful as Bakura, the action _had_ to have been programmed into his hard drive. The blonde was just toying with him, that was it… Seto probably put him up to it.

"Ask Kaiba," he replied.

"But I want to know now!" The doll protested.

"Well tough luck, you're going to have to wait," Touzoku snarled, crossing his arms.

"You don't know, do you?"

"…What?"

"You don't know what they're doing, and you just don't want to admit it!" Malik pointed an accusatory finger. "Isn't that right?!"

"You're way off base!"

"Then why won't you tell me?"

"Because I don't want to!"

"Yeah right," the blonde scoffed, turning away haughtily. "I guess you're not as smart as I thought. A grave miscalculation on my part."

"F-Fine! You want to know what that is? It's called a kiss! A gesture of affection between two people who have feelings for each other!"

Malik glared him moodily from beneath light bangs, glass eyes narrowed.

"Wh-What?" Touzoku twitched. "What did I say?"

The doll didn't respond; it merely continued staring at him with those strangely alluring gaze. He noticed that it had started to pout.

"Malik, I didn't mean… Look, if you really didn't know then I'm sorry!"

Glare, glare, glare.

"Will you _cut that ou_t?"

Stare, stare, stare.

"Seriously! Stop looking at me like–!"

Suddenly, the blonde lunged forward and pressed his lips against Touzoku's, catching the human completely by surprise. As he tried desperately to push the svelte doll off of him (easier said than done, as Malik was heavier than he looked), he couldn't help but notice that Malik's synthetic lips felt very much like the real thing, only colder. Still attempting to escape from the overly affectionate toy, he heard a light jingle of bells somewhere to his right.

'Great,' he groaned internally. 'They're back. Such nice timing too.'

Sensing that Malik had stopped to welcome Seto back home, Touzoku took the opportunity to shove the doll off, causing it to fall backwards, its hat falling off completely, revealing the large metal 'cat ears' on either side of its head.

"What the hell are you doing?" he panted, wiping his mouth frantically.

"You said kissing was a gesture of affection," the doll said defensively, looking painfully innocent despite what it had just done. "I…I was waiting for you to do it, because I know you have a lot of affection for me…but you didn't, so I…"

Slowly, Touzoku looked towards the other three, his face a startling shade of red. Jounouchi's mouth was slightly agape, his plastic bag of daikon radishes falling noisily onto the ground. Mokuba was wide-eyed, but smiling in an 'I totally knew it!' manner.

Seto looked absolutely horrified.

"We leave you two alone for half an hour," the taller blonde exclaimed, leaning against an armoire, "and we come back to this?"

"Touzoku was only trying to teach me a few things," Malik replied, still wearing the same expression. "Don't be mad at him…"

"Seto? Are you okay?" Touzoku asked weakly, as the brunette appeared to be paralyzed from shock.

"Remind me to never go to the movies again!" Mokuba laughed, kicking off his boots. "This place is _way_ more interesting!"

"Well, you two can continue your little 'lesson'. The rest of us have a dinner to cook," Jounouchi huffed, shooting his friend a devilish grin. "You know, when I said that you were a whore for technology–"

"Keep walking mutt," the other said through gritted teeth. He turned to the doll kneeling in front of him, still blushing. "And you. Don't you ever do that to me again."

Malik shrunk back apologetically, resembling a kicked kitten.

"…W-Without permission," Touzoku finished, getting to his feet. "I'm going to go help them out in the kitchen… Uh, excuse me."

And with that, he left the living room, completely flustered and oblivious to the blonde's triumphant grin.

Sheepishly, Malik stood up and walked timidly to the still frozen Seto, poking him gently on the arm in an attempt to rouse him out of his shock.

"Seto?"

An odd gurgling sound was the only response.

The doll tilted its head to the side, tugging at the young man's sleeve persistently.

"Are you going to stay like that the entire night?"

-

I bet you thought Malik was going to bring down porn magazines, huh?

"_Um…why is that man holding her upside down like that?"_

"_I-It's because…because…um…because…!"_

"_Eh? Touzoku?"_

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed that bit of fluff! **Leave me a review** and tell me what you thought of this bonus!

Going to go finish _Ningen_'s next chapter now…

OH! But _first_, I wanted to tell you all that my LiveJournal's been revamped so that you can keep track of my progress (including previews, notes, etc.); if you're also on LiveJournal, please don't hesitate to add me as a friend! I'll occasionally post any fanart I receive as well as pictures and media that have inspired certain stories or chapters. I even have a few pieces of concept art for _Wilted Rose _that I've been meaning to show everyone.

It should be rather interesting to see my thought process...

**Don't forget to REVIEW!**


	8. Bonus: Power Shopping

**Ningyo**

**Summary: **While exploring a newly inherited house, Mokuba stumbles across a life sized robotic doll in the attic. The odd, yet beautiful creation arouses Seto's interest, and the tragic love story behind the house's origin begins to unfold.

**Rated:** T

**Genre: **Mystery

**Author's Note:** Hee, I didn't mean to add another chapter to this so soon, but what can I say? When inspiration strikes, you make…inspiration pie (or something)!

This is more of a _crack_ chapter than fluff one, but it's still pretty cute, I think.

**Disclaimer:** Yuugiou and all related characters belong to Kazuki Takahashi.

-

**Bonus Chapter – Power Shopping**

-

"Welcome to Marble's." Touzoku announced, watching as Seto and Malik stepped into the small supermarket, eyes wide.

"I've never been to a supermarket before," the doll said eagerly, clasping its hands.

"It smells like commoner here," Seto gagged, pinching his nose shut. "Lower class commoner..."

"Don't be a child," the other human snapped, giving him a rough shove. "Grandpa said that he and Grandma bought one of the American franchises and brought it all the way to Kyoto; apparently, it was a really high end store back in the day."

"How the mighty have fallen…"

"So does the chain still belong to your family?" Malik asked, picking up a small shopping basket.

"I think Grandpa sold it after she died, so it _had_ been ours until about twenty years ago. I can still get all the discounted ramen bowls I want though," he added excitedly.

"Are you sure they'd sell durian candy in here?" Seto muttered skeptically, inspecting a package of nori wrappers. "Mokuba said it was pretty expensive."

"They have an entire aisle dedicated to candied fruits and all that other sweet stuff; I'm sure it's going to be _somewhere_ in here."

"And if it isn't? Mokuba managed to last one week without getting into trouble – I hope you understand that events like this only happen once in a blue moon!"

"Yeah, yeah, your brother is hell spawn, I get it," Touzoku said irritably. "You and Malik can go check out that sweets aisle I told you about; I'm going to go restock on my daily dose of salt!"

"Touzoku's going to have a heart condition by the time he's thirty if he keeps eating that stuff," the blonde doll said worriedly, watching its creator's descendant scurry gleefully into the instant noodle section. "I analyzed the sodium content of his favorite flavor…there's enough salt and MSG in there to kill a grown horse…"

"Well, when we go visit him in the hospital a few years from now, at least we can say 'we told you so,'" Seto shrugged, motioning for Malik to follow him.

The pair walked into an aisle adorned with brightly packaged food items, most of which depicted small drawings of chibi-style cats, dogs, pandas, and even a squid or two. All the colors waged a violent assault on Seto's conservative eyeballs, and had some trouble deciding which side of the candy-coated walkway to search first. Finally, he staggered over to his left, choosing to attack the items with the least artificial food coloring first.

He looked at each row of snacks carefully, trying to figure out what half the items even were – from the looks of it, Marble's also carried a wide assortment of Chinese sweets, as well as several Korean. Super happy smiling kittens did _not_ make deciphering the bags' unknown contents any easier – pretty soon, he would have to assume that all those packages really _did_ contain some sort of genetically altered grinning feline.

And that wasn't a very pleasant thought in the slightest.

Suddenly, the tall brunette remembered that he had been partnered up with a highly advanced super computer packed in the shape of criminally attractive doll. Surely _it_ had some sort of translation program encoded into its hardware!

Seto looked over his shoulder and found Malik staring very intently at a large bag of marshmallows sitting on the highest shelf. After being around the doll for some time, he had noticed that it had a strange affinity for anything that was soft and easily held. It turned out the room that was decorated with massive amounts of stuffed animals was done so specifically for that the lilac-eyed Malik model – apparently, it was the only one of the six that had a bizarre desire to poke anything and everything that looked…poke-able.

He watched as the blonde continued to gaze longingly at the overstuffed bag, its fingers twitching ever so slightly, wanting nothing more than to squeeze the ever-loving crap out of those marshmallows. Unfortunately, even standing on tiptoe, Malik was nowhere near tall enough to reach them; Seto knew the doll would rather go without than make a fool of itself in public – the ability to feel humiliation must have been a particularly difficult trait to program.

"Here," he said sympathetically, handing the package to the woefully short blonde.

"Thank you!" it smiled excitedly, immediately giving one of the contained marshmallows a long awaited poke. Upon 'feeling' the soft blob of compressed sugar and gelatin, a wave of satisfaction coursed through Malik's many circuits, creating a rush of what some would describe as ecstasy. It repeated the action once, then twice, then thrice, each time receiving that same odd sense of pleasure. The pillow-shaped snacks were so soft, so light, so…

"Squishy," Malik sighed, continuing to squeeze the bag. "Squish…squish…squish…"

Seto swallowed a particularly large lump in his throat and forced himself to continue searching for the elusive candied durian his brother had been going on about, determined to reward Mokuba for managing to last one whole week without getting sent to detention. Once again, he had to congratulate Bakura for managing to create such a life-like robot, even taking the time to program infuriatingly cute mannerisms.

While unknowingly giving a box of chocolate-filled pandas the evil eye, Seto failed to notice his dark skinned companion slip back into view, arms full of an assortment of nutritionally challenged chips and instant ramen bowls.

Touzoku looked from the tall human to the short doll and back, mild confusion etched onto his face. He was particularly puzzled as to why Malik seemed to be so engrossed with a bag of over fluffed marshmallows.

"Squish…squish…squish…"

"Why is he doing that?" Touzoku asked, placing about 10 noodle cups into the basket. "Did he glitch?"

"I'm not sure," Seto blinked, wondering why he hadn't thought of that himself.

They went over to the mesmerized doll and shook it lightly, breaking the marshmallow's hypnotic hold. However, instead of apologizing sheepishly like it had always done, the blonde instead hugged the plastic bag very tightly, afraid it was going to be taken away.

"Can we buy it?" Malik asked hopefully, lilac eyes reflecting a childlike pleading.

"What are you going to do with sixty-four jumbo marshmallows?" Touzoku blinked, blushing a pale pink. He always had trouble resisting the doll's painfully adorable behavior – at first he thought that most of it was unintentional, however, after spending more time around the Kaiba household, he couldn't help but feel a sneaking suspicion that Malik knew exactly what he was doing.

"Uh…research?"

"Research for _what_?" Seto asked incredulously.

"H-How…um…how different amounts of gelatin can affect the viscosity of the substances they're mixed into?"

"Why?" both humans challenged, successfully hiding their amazement at the doll's excuse.

"Because…I want to?" Malik answered timidly, holding the bag even closer. "Please Seto, it's only 500 yen!"

"You know those things _do_ get stale, don't you?" The brunette grumbled, placing a hand on his hip. "After a few months they won't be so squishy anymore."

"It's okay! I'm used to things I like disappearing!"

A pointed arrow of guilt thrust itself into Touzoku's chest after hearing that statement – how could they have forgotten all the years of loneliness that doll had to endure? The disappointment, the manufactured, but undoubtedly just as painful heartache? He reached up and pinched Seto's ear, causing the taller man to give an uncharacteristic yelp. Rubbing his sore appendage irritably, the brunette bowed slightly to meet the other's steel grey eyes, which looked oddly moist. Malik continued his carefree harassment of the already traumatized marshmallows, oblivious to their following discussion.

"_Buy the poor thing those damn marshmallows_," Touzoku hissed, unable to take the overwhelming sadness of the whole situation. "Before I break down and cry in front of the entire supermarket!"

"You realize you're playing right into his hand, right?" Seto whispered back, though he too was having a difficult time controlling his tear ducts. "He does this all the time back at the house! …Or was that Mokuba?"

"I don't care! All he wants is a stupid bag of stupid things he won't even stupid eat!"

"Making it a stupid waste of stupid money!"

"You know, he's pretty good at hiding things," Touzoku noted, remembering the almost perfect condition of the picture books Malik had brought down a few weeks ago. "Maybe he'll find a way to preserve their squishiness?"

"Don't _you_ start saying that word!"

"But Seto, all he wants to do is play with the damn things, just look!"

They both turned back to Malik, who squashed the bag yet again, this time producing a high-pitched 'fwoo' sound.

"_I'm going to explode if he keeps this up_!"

"…I think I am too," Seto finally admitted, left eye beginning to twitch. "Damn that Bakura!"

"The guy must have had some sick fetishes to even _think_ of including _this_ into that doll's hard drive," Touzoku spat, face now a bright pink. "To think I'm related to him!"

"…What kind of things are _you_ into then?"

"H-Huh?"

"You know I read somewhere that sexual fetishes were hereditary," Seto said knowledgeably, raising a finger. "Maybe the reason you're so uncomfortable around Malik and his squishy marshmallows is because deep down, you find it to be arousing."

"I don't find pummeling the air out of sugar sacks to be sexually gratifying in any aspect!"

"Perhaps you find the pummeling of certain _other_ sacks to be sexually gratifying then?"

"Okay, now you're just being a giant asshole."

"Are giant assholes also a part of your twisted sack fetish?" The brunette continued to tease.

"_Shut up Seto_," Touzoku spat.

A hideously loud 'POP!' interrupted their argument, as did three very large marshmallows that somehow magically descended from the ceiling. A loud screech about alien eggs from the next aisle made the pair realize that Malik's apparently superhuman hugs had launched the pillows of fluffed sugar all over the small market. Touzoku gave a low growl and shot a particularly scathing glare at his blue-eyed associate, silently mouthing a very angry 'this is _your_ fault.'

"Oops," they heard Malik say in surprise, turning to find the floor around the doll completely covered in the fallen marshmallows. "I guess…I squished a little too hard?"

"We'll buy you another one," Seto sighed, rubbing his eyes. "But you aren't allowed to squeeze them in here, in the car, or in the house."

"Then where am I supposed to–?"

"Outside, provided it's not raining."

"I can deal with that," the blonde nodded, watching excitedly as Seto went to pick up another bag.

Malik then fell onto his knees and went to help Touzoku pick up the remnants of his innocent, yet messy mistake; Seto gave the two a concerned glance before continuing to search for Mokuba's impossible-to-find candy.

"To think a complicated piece of machinery like you would become totally unresponsive after seeing a bunch of marshmallows." Touzoku muttered.

"But they were–"

"Squishy, I know."

"Sorry," the doll apologized, hanging its head.

"You don't have to cry about it. They're just marshmallows – now if you'd decided to blow up a box of jelly-sticks, _then_ we'd have some problems."

"Jelly-sticks are pretty squishy too, aren't they?" Malik said in realization. "Do you think they have any–?"

"_No_," the human said sternly, eyes narrowed.

"Oh yeah," the blonde laughed sheepishly. "There aren't any more on this side; how about you?"

"I think we have all of them," Touzoku grunted as he moved to stand, both fists stuffed with marshmallows. Malik gave him the ones he had picked up and they both walked to the nearest garbage can, all the while receiving curious stares from the other customers; the odd pair then allowed the sticky pillows to ooze off before falling into the black plastic with a soft 'poof'.

"Disgusting," the tanned human cringed, pulling a face.

"I bet they taste good though," the doll giggled, wiping its hands on a moist towel that Seto had packed into his jacket. "Do they?"

"I'm not that into sweets, actually."

"Why? Too much happiness for you?"

"Watch it you malfunctioning Vocaloid," he snapped before noticing that they had both missed one last marshmallow; an exceptionally gooey specimen perched atop Malik's hat.

"Don't move," Touzoku advised, causing the doll to freeze in what looked to be a very uncomfortable position. "There's one stuck to your head."

"On my _head_? I just washed this hat!"

"It'll wipe off."

"Are you sure?"

"_Yes_, now hold still!"

"I haven't moved!"

"Your mouth is moving," Touzoku muttered, prying the marshmallow off the woven wool. "Eww…it's all melted… But I guess that makes sense – all of your hardware's up there, isn't it?"

"Most of it," Malik blinked, taking off his hat to inspect the damage, cat-like ears glinting in the artificial light. "I had no idea it could get that hot though..."

"Maybe we can roast some marshmallows on you later."

"You're _funny_."

"I try," Touzoku sighed contently, running a still-sticky hand through his silvery hair, creating a number of new spikes. "Now let's go find Seto so we can get out of this overpriced pit. …And put your hat back on."

"Oh yeah!" The doll gasped, quickly, covering his ears.

-

Seto tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for the elderly woman in front of him to finish counting out her exact change. But the pessimistic brunette knew all too well that even after the old hag had placed down the last coin, he wouldn't get his turn. _No_, because then she would ask to buy a roll of stamps. Then a few lottery tickets. Then she would start telling the acne ridden cashier about 'the good old days'. Then he would answer, and tell her he had a grandma just like her (but he really didn't). Then she would be flattered and continue the fake conversation. AND THEN–

"You're still here?" Touzoku snorted, appearing behind him, his hand on Malik's head. "You suck at picking lines."

"If you hadn't bought so many damn ramen bowls, I could have taken the express lane and we'd all be home by now!"

"Touzoku and I went to the bakery across the street," the doll recited eagerly, an ornately decorated box in its hands. "All the cakes were so small and cute!"

"I bought one shaped like a cat for my mom; she's going to _freak_."

"That'll be interesting for you," Seto remarked.

"Were you able to find those stupid candies for Mokuba?" Touzoku continued.

"Actually, the strangest thing happened; I was looking around the fruit section when I ran into his Algebra teacher – apparently Mokuba's been forging my signature onto his detention slips; his _recent_ ones, mind you. _And_ she said that our phone's been mysteriously out of service every time she's tried to call."

"How'd she figure the forgery thing out?"

"He spelled my first name with two Ts and an I."

"…How?" Malik blinked.

"I don't even want to know," Seto grumbled. "So anyway, instead of rewarding him with phantom sweets, he's having boiled eggplants and soy sauce."

"What are the rest of us having?" Touzoku asked fearfully.

"Kitsune udon."

"But that's Mokuba's favorite!" Malik exclaimed.

"_Exactly_," Seto smiled a little too happily. "And I don't want you sneaking him a bowl, got it?"

"I don't even eat with you people," the doll reminded him. "…I don't even eat."

The brunette let loose a mental sigh of relief as the little old lady finally hobbled away, still checking her receipt as she wandered towards the automatic doors. He slammed the small basket onto the conveyor belt, credit card ready to be scanned. He was finally going to get out of here!

The teenager running the cashier wiped his nose loudly before giving the eldest Kaiba brother the standard routine;

"How are you to–"

"Fine."

"Did you find everyth–"

"Yes."

"Would you like to join our–"

"No."

"Will that be credit or–"

"Credit."

"Do you want–"

"Paper." Seto finished, causing Touzoku to gaze admirably at his new idol.

After winning an intense duel with the credit card scanner, the mismatched group of three finally found their way outside, the fresh evening wind of Kyoto immediately raising their spirits; of course, Malik had been ecstatic just to be brought outside, so he was more interested in the star dotted sky than the air he didn't need to breathe.

"We're free!" Touzoku sobbed, shoving his bags into the car's trunk. "No more outdated music, no more stale supermarket oxygen, and no more old people!"

"_Whose_ idea was it to come here?" Seto reminded him.

"I don't care anymore, just get in so we can get out!" he replied from the passenger's seat, already buckling himself in. "Hurry up! My happiness is fading!"

"Stop being a drama queen."

"FAAAADING!"

Malik was the first to join him, hopping into the back seat and throwing off his marshmallow stained hat.

"That was a very educational experience," the doll announced, clearly pleased with all it had seen.

"For you maybe."

"At least we got to step out for a bit; Seto was stuck there the whole afternoon, and he didn't even really need to be there since Mokuba was nothing but a two faced liar."

"I have to agree with you on that one," Touzoku nodded. "But all that's in the past – we're finally heading back to your place for some _food_. I'm so hungry I could eat a raw octopus. …Come to think of it, I've done that before…"

"How was it?" Malik winced.

"Tentacle-y."

"Oh, so is _that_ what you're into?" Seto sneered, getting into the driver's seat. "Typical Japanese pervert."

"Butt out and drive, damn you!" he snapped in return.

"Will you _relax_? The house isn't going anywhere," the other growled, pulling out of the lot. "And I'd stop pissing you off if it weren't so easy (and fun) to do."

Touzoku chose to ignore that statement and instead sunk into the car's plush upholstery, the quiet rumble of the engine pulling him into a light slumber. Malik, growing steadily uncomfortable with the sudden silence (he much preferred it when they argued), decided to distract himself by checking the receipt for any math errors. Despite the darkness, the doll's glass eyes were still able to 'see' the miniscule text inked onto the small slip of paper.

Seto had turned the radio on, changing it from Mokuba's favorite rock station (or as the young Kaiba had dubbed it, 'The Loudest, Most Awesome Station to Ever Exist _EVER_!') to one that was considerably less angry; a quiet channel that played only classic instrumental pieces.

Currently, a sad, yet somehow uplifting piano piece was being broadcast; a tender melody backed by bold chords that intensified as the song continued.

The peace was shattered by a piercing squeal from the backseat – Seto nearly slid off the road in surprise and Touzoku coughed himself awake, flailing awkwardly as he attempted to sit up.

"What's wrong?" they asked.

"Wh…Wh…"

Touzoku peeked over his seat and found Malik looking like the perfect picture of distress and outrage.

"…_Where are my marshmallows_?"

-

Oh, 500 yen is about $1.50 in USD :3

Phew, I needed this x_x; The next chapter of _Ningen_'s actually coming along a lot faster than I expected (I'm about halfway done); still no guarantee that it'll be finished by this Sunday though D: Still, I hope this extra fluff will hold you off XD

**Your reviews make Malik-bot's marshmallow dreams come true!**


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